Summary: Joe pays the ultimate price when he seeks vengeance on evil Dr Hale who maimed his leg and got off scot-free.
Rating T-13, WC 43,800 Family,Drama,Hurt/Comfort

Best Medicine Series:

Best Medicine
Malice Aforethought
Coup De Grace

 

                                                     Coup De Grace

*** Dear Christ!  The very prison walls suddenly seemed to reel, and the sky above my head became like a casque of scorching steel.  And, though I was a soul in pain, my pain I could not feel.  I only knew what hunted thought quickened his step and why, he looked upon the garish day with such a wistful eye.  The man had killed the thing he loved, and so he had to die. *** (Excerpt from the poem “The Ballad of Reading Gaol, written by Oscar Wilde)

**********************************

Joe Cartwright stood leaning against the front corral gate, with his left boot heel hooked to the bottom planking.  He adjusted his right leg so that it now bore the brunt of his body weight.  The stance was a familiar one, in fact, it came without thinking anymore.  As the cowhands rounded up the new unbroken horses inside the corral, Joe’s thoughts were a mixture of despair, regret and revenge.  He had proven to all around, ever since he had first sat a bronc at the tender age of fifteen, that he was the best wrangler on the Ponderosa ranch.  Even his two brothers, Adam and Hoss, were amazed by the kid’s rare natural talent.  Both brothers presumed that it must have been due to Joe’s mother’s blood which flowed through his veins and made him look like an expert so early on.  Marie Cartwright had loved horses.  And, just like the son that she wouldn’t live to see grow past infancy she was a daredevil when it came to riding the equines.  Even with her husband’s stern lectures the woman would often ride up to the newly built ranch house at break-neck speed.  Unfortunately, that was exactly what had taken the beautiful woman’s life, and it had happened right there in the front yard where Marie Cartwright had fallen and taken her last breath.  Joe’s father watched his youngest son over the early years and hoped with all of his heart that the child would not act with such recklessness like his mother had.  By the time Joe was riding full time it was very apparent that he would follow his mother’s behavior in his yearning to take things to the very limits of safety.  It had taken many lectures and even pleading at times for him to be careful, but Ben felt that Joe was ready for the full time job as wrangler by the time he was eighteen.  Even though the worried father would hold his breath every time that he watched the boy jump on a bucking steed, it heartened him to see his youngest child so proud of his prowess with the horses.  Bronc busting was a dangerous but necessary job on the ranch.  Horses were needed to carry out almost every chore around the large homestead, and within a few weeks all of the new mounts primary use would be in bringing one of the largest herds of cattle that the Ponderosa had ever raised to market in the east.  Joe could taste the bitterness in the back of his throat.   In fact it burnt it so badly that it made him spit.  It was disheartening enough that he wouldn’t play any part in breaking the new horses, most of which he had hand-picked the previous fall, but Joe would also not be participating with the spring cattle drive.  If it had been merely an accident which had prevented him from doing those things, Joe could have dealt with it and conceded it to fate, but that was not the case.  No, it was due to the ruthless cruelty of one man, a man who had taken the Hippocratic Oath to heal injured people, who had cost Joe so much.  That man was one Steven Hale, who had changed his name and left Virginia City years ago due to charges of malpractice.  Unfortunately for Joe, their paths had crossed the previous October when he was far away from home and had suffered a broken bone in his left leg.  Normally, especially with Joe Cartwright’s well known healing powers, it would have been simply a matter of setting the bone and he would have been well enough by spring to be back busting broncs.  But, the evil doctor had a plan which was not only extremely thought out, but also very effective.  He had kept Joe alone in his office for several weeks.  A wire to Joe’s father, which was to have been sent, never arrived and that had given Hale plenty of time to do his damage.  By the time Ben became aware of Joe’s injury in the town of Sand Dust, he immediately rode there to assist his son.  That was only the start of the misery which had never ended for Joe.

***********************************

Ben poured a cup of hot coffee from the pot Hop Sing, the family’s cook and caretaker, had left on his desk.  As he sipped at the brew, he knew what was keeping his youngest son from returning.  Joe was supposed to be helping his father complete a list of supplies to be taken out to the two main cow camps.  Hoss, Joe’s middle brother was manning one camp, while his oldest brother Adam had charge of the second.  Ben knew that Joe had little use for writing lists or even in delivering supplies by buckboard with his father later on in the day.  Joe wanted two things, or so Ben had come to believe over the past several months.  First and foremost, the young man wanted to be as he had been before Hale had gotten his hands on him.  Running a very close second to that desire was the young man’s need for revenge.  Ben sighed and set his coffee cup down onto the large oaken desk and stood from his chair.  There hadn’t been a single day since October that he hadn’t thought along the same lines as his youngest boy.  If only some form of revenge or justice had been possible Ben would have seen it accomplished long before spring had come to the ranch.  But, there were extenuating circumstances which prohibited him from going after Steven Hale.   Foremost was the fact that Ben had been forced to make an oath to his Creator that he wouldn’t seek revenge of any kind.  Hale had set it all up and there wasn’t a thing he could do about taking the man to task.  Even worse was the fact that he had to watch it eat at his son day after day and feel helpless.  Joe’s leg was still there and just that fact alone was a miracle considering the damage that Hale had caused the boy.  Then vivid memories of the long days and nights spent at the Sisters of Mercy Hospital when no-one could even promise the worried father that his son would survive the impending surgery, gripped him and shook him back to reality.  Joe was alive, due to the surgery which had regrettably been performed by Doctor Hale.  Not only had he caused the injury and the grievous infection which had ravaged the boy’s leg, but he had also ironically been the only surgeon in the area who could reverse the damage.  Ben had been forced to deal with the very devil himself at that moment and he had agreed to drop all of the charges against Hale.   He had also been commanded to drop all old charges, and both he and Doctor Paul Martin had waived off previous complaints in order to get the man to do the operation.  On top of those insults, the doctor had added a fee of five thousand dollars to the mix, which Ben paid.

Was it all worth it?  Ben would wonder each day, that is, until the curly headed young man would make his first appearance in the morning.  He knew the bargain, vile as it was, had been worth it all.  The aggravating thing about the whole agreement was that Joe had not been in on the details.  There was no way possible that either Ben or Paul Martin were going to tell a fever-laden Little Joe that the man who had re-broken his leg in the town of Sand Dust, without sedating his patient, and who had carved into that same leg for no reason other than to insert and old scalpel, was the same man who they had to turn to in order to save his life.   Those details and all other facts had waited until the crisis was over and Joe had been brought back to the Ponderosa.  Ben could still see the anguish on his boy’s face when he had heard the whole story.  He hated that he even had to tell the tale at all, but Joe was not the type of young man who didn’t ask questions.  Ben had to tell him about the scalpel that had rested just underneath the skin of his left leg next to the re-broken bone.   He had to inform him that it was the scalpel and the shoddy medical treatment which had almost cost him his leg and life.  When Joe had turned his tear-streaked face upwards and asked his father if Doctor Hale had been prosecuted for all that he had done it had broken Ben’s heart to have to tell him that the man had gotten away scot-free.  After receiving that information, Ben had seen the look in Joe’s eyes change from a deep hurt to a burnt rage.  After twenty years of raising the boy, Ben knew exactly what that meant.  Joe wanted revenge, and he wanted it pretty damned fast!  Theirs being a completely honest relationship, Ben had informed his son about the vow he had made to God not to go after Steven Hale.  He had made the same vow to Hale in front of both Sheriff Roy Coffee and Doctor Martin, and Joe knew that his father didn’t go back on those types of things, even if he desired it more than life.

***********************************

Joe didn’t hear his father’s approach and it wasn’t until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he turned his attention towards the man.

“I was wondering what was keeping you, Joe,” Ben began, though it was a lie.

“Just checking out the stock, Pa.  I sure wanted to gentle all of those myself.  That chestnut is some horse, huh?”  Joe replied with a wistful tone of voice.

Ben’s eyes shot across the corral where a wrangler was lassoing one of the horses that Joe had bought from a ranch just outside of the town where he had been injured.  He then turned his attention back to his son’s eyes and realized that his despair was mounting.

“Yes — yes – you sure know your horse flesh, Son.  But — you know Hoss and Adam and their crews are waiting for those supplies.  So, how about you and I get back to those lists?” Ben replied, and hoped he would get the desired response from Joe.

“You know you don’t need me for that.  You’re just giving me something to do to keep me busy, Pa,” Joe shot back, and his tone wasn’t pleasant.

Ben squeezed Joe’s right shoulder a bit harder and responded, “I see you are suddenly a mind reader now!”

Joe stared down at the ground and kicked at a clod of dirt, angered by his inability to cope with what life had handed him.  He drew in a deep breath and turned towards the house without a word.  Ben caught up with his son and matched his gait.  It was only once and awhile that he could detect the slight limp of Joe’s left leg, but it was there that day.  Ben figured that it had to be one reason for his son’s bad mood.  He hoped he could figure out a way to shake the boy out of it.  Together they made it inside the ranch house, but, just when Ben had the notion that he was winning his son over, suddenly the young man turned towards the table just to the other side of the den and poured a shot of brandy.

“Kind of early for that don’t you think?” Ben asked as he took his seat at the desk and stared over at Joe.   It wasn’t even noon and his son was already drinking some rather strong alcohol.

Joe drank down the shot of liquor in one swift swallow and then walked towards his father.  “It’s just for medicinal purposes, Pa.   My leg’s not doing so hot today.”

Ben stared again at his son as he took a seat next to him and wondered how much truth there had been in the boy’s statement.  Truth or lie, he wasn’t going to challenge Joe’s drinking right then.  Ben wanted to get his son’s mind back on the important business of arranging supplies for the long trail drive.

The two Cartwrights worked side by side for several hours until everything was well planned for the upcoming cattle drive.  Ben’s eyes would, now and again drop down to notice Joe’s left leg being shifted underneath the desk when he would give up his seat to the boy.  He could tell that his son was uncomfortable, and the extent of which seemed to be growing as the hours passed.

“How about we stretch our legs for a bit?” Pa asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Why is YOUR leg bothering you?” Joe questioned, and his tone wasn’t kind.

“Joseph, I was making a suggestion.  Now get up from that chair.  I know your leg is hurting so just do it please.”

Tossing his pencil down angrily, Joe stood and walked around the desk.  His leg had actually been throbbing for the last hour but he hadn’t wanted to say anything.  He frowned and looked directly at his Pa and said, “I’m sorry, Pa.  I know I’ve been hard to live with — I’m just having a bad day.  This dang leg is a nuisance and it’s starting to get under my skin.  I didn’t mean to fire off at you — just ignore me.”

Pa smiled and put his arm around his son’s shoulder.  “Oh you’ve been hard to live with?  I hardly noticed,” He grinned in an attempt to ease the boy’s mind.

Hop Sing made his appearance known as he walked over to Ben and Joe.  “I can have lunch ready vely soon.”

“No thank you, Hop Sing,” Ben called over to the cook.  “Joe and I have to go into town so we’ll eat there.  But we’ll all be home tonight for supper.”

Hop Sing sang out some words in his native language and neither Ben nor Joe knew if he was mad or just making a statement.

“You ready to go, Joseph?”

“Yeah, let me go hitch up the buckboard,” Joe nodded and stood to move to the door.

“I can get Hank to do that!” Ben called over to his son.

Joe glared over at his Pa and protested, “Come on, Pa!  Don’t you think I can manage hooking up a danged team of horses?”

“I wasn’t saying that!”   Pa started to explain but Joe wasn’t going to stay inside the house another minute.  His anger had flared up, largely due to any reminder of his limitations.  He hurried out of the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving Pa stunned by his sudden outburst.  Ben had tried his best to treat Joe as he had been prior to his injury, but at times he would forget and become overly protective concerning what the boy could or couldn’t do.   Tucking the lists inside his vest, Ben walked to the front door and grabbed his holster and hat.  He noticed that Joe hadn’t taken any of his gear and wondered for a moment if he should be presumptuous and carry it along with him outside.  Deciding that instead of it being read by the boy as an act of helpfulness, that it would be misconstrued by Joe as another task he couldn’t handle himself.  Ben left the green corduroy jacket, the tan hat, and the left handed holster sitting on the credenza and walked outside.

By the time Joe had the team of horses into their harnesses and had driven them out to where Ben was standing he was feeling the pangs of guilt again for his bad behavior.  Pa didn’t deserve it, none of it.  There were only two people who Joe felt deserved grief and those were Doctor Steven Hale and himself.  He despised the evil doctor due to what he had done to him, and he was beginning to hate himself as much for not being able to control his own leg and what it was doing to him.   Though, for the most part, the pain of the injury felt little more than a dull ache, there had been times when his left leg would totally go out on him.  Worst of all, Joe never knew when that time would be, as it would give him no warning.  He had taken quite a few tumbles over the past several months and that included falling down a few flights of stairs.  Now, bounding up the staircase inside the Ponderosa ranch house was no longer an option for the young man.  And slowing down in any way was not something Joe relished.  The rest of the family had mutually decided to try to ignore such events as his falls and the like.  They had learned from past experiences that if they were to become zealous in assisting him during any of the tumbles or near-misses, Joe would turn on them and tell them to stop hovering over him.  The mood swings that he was suffering with were totally due to his inability to control his own body, and the embarrassment it had caused.  The whole situation had levied a great strain on the whole family, but mostly Joe, who was left with an uncertain future.  Though the family physician had made quite a few trips to the ranch during the first months after Joe’s surgery, the young man hadn’t been too keen on him coming uninvited to see how he was getting along.  Doctor Martin had already assessed the damage to his patient’s leg and had urged Joe to give the healing process more time before coming to the conclusion that he would never walk without a limp.  Paul had also conferred with his colleague Doctor Harold Peele about Joe’s sudden episodes of falling.  Harold had asked his best surgeons at St. Francis Hospital in San Francisco, to study Paul’s notes in order to ascertain the best prognosis for Joe.  The conclusion was that Joe had suffered from some kind of nerve damage, either in the re-breaking of his leg, or due to the two surgeries which had been performed on it.  They all went along with Doctor Martin in that they suggested that the patient should allow the leg to heal for at least a year before even suggesting further tests.  None of those pieces of information had done anything to help Joe.  He wanted to run and ride fast and without any kind of a handicap.  He wanted to get back to the job he had claimed as his, and that was as the head bronc buster.  Most of all he wanted everything that had happened in the town of Sand Dust, at the hands of Steven Hale, to just disappear so he could be as he had been before all of it.  No amount of dreaming or wishing was making that happen.  And, unfortunately, he was not born with a shred of patience and it was wearing thin after six months of waiting and worrying about what might be his ultimate future.

“Joseph?” Ben sounded out as he placed his hand on his son’s arm, in an attempt to shake him out of his temporary daze.

“Oh — the wagon is ready — be right back — gotta get my jacket,” Joe answered, his face somewhat flushed with embarrassment for not even hearing his father’s approach due to his maudlin daydream.

Joe prepared to hop down from the wagon, when old memories tugged at the back of his mind and warned him that such a drop, like down from the buckboard, might cause him to fall.  The last thing he wanted on that morning was to be eating dirt because of his carelessness; and especially not in front of his Pa.  He had taken enough pratfalls and laid face down in the yard far too many times to let it happen again.  Instead of the normal leap from the seat of the wagon, the young man eased his way towards terra firma and headed inside the ranch house.

Pa hadn’t missed the indecision on his son’s face as he had made the move to simply step down from the wagon.  It pained his heart to see how hard Joseph was attempting to hide the fact that he had serious issues with his leg.  Joe was back in a few minutes and the boy slung his holster over his shoulder and had the jacket in his left hand.

*********************************

The trip into town was mostly a quiet one.  Though Joe had made an attempt to lighten his spirits with talk of things other than the impending cattle drive, he found himself to be floundering in the conversation as he grasped for new topics.  Ben knew his son and what he had been trying to do.  He also conversed about other events that might take Joe’s mind off of the fact that he wouldn’t be heading east with his brothers on the drive.  Both father and son were obviously relieved when the buckboard pulled up in front of the mercantile.  Ben hoped that a day spent in Virginia City might perk his son up a bit.

“I’ll handle the order, Pa — I know you want to get over to the bank and speak to Mr. Andrews,” Joe insisted, as he reached for the lists in his father’s hand.

Ben wasn’t about to protest his son’s offer, knowing what would happen if he did. He turned over the papers to Joe and smiled, “Fine, Son, you get Frank started on those supplies and I’ll handle the bank transactions.  How about we meet in an hour over at the International House for some lunch?”

Joe nodded his acceptance and slowly made his way up the steps to the store.  “See you in an hour or so,” He called over his shoulder.

*** Be careful *** Ben thought to himself.  He had noticed that Joseph was limping worse now and he prayed the kid wouldn’t take another tumble while there in town.

Frank Jenkins slowly studied the paperwork that Joe had handed him.  He rubbed at his chin and walked around the mercantile for a few minutes and then told the young man that he would need at least an hour or more to gather all of the supplies that the Cartwrights needed.  Joe shrugged and told the man that he was going to head over to the feed and grain store and that he would be back when everything was ready to be loaded onto the buckboard.

Walking slowly down C Street, Joe’s mind wandered and he didn’t hear the call of the approaching woman until she was within an arm’s length from him.

“Joe?  Hello — are you in there?” Sally laughed as she stood face to face with her longtime friend.

“Sally — oh—sorry—I guess I was in another world,” Joe replied, his face flushed with embarrassment.  “How are you doing?”

“Fine – been busy working at the dress shop most days.  How’s your family – I haven’t seen any of you in weeks?”

“Oh we’re all just as ornery as ever,” Joe returned and fought to smile.  “Actually my brothers have been busy with round-up and all.  I’ve been helping my father with gathering the supplies for the cattle drive — so I’ve been kind of busy.  You know how it goes.”

“Well, I sure hope you aren’t going to be so busy that you’ll miss the dance on Saturday.  I was hoping for a dance or two with my old friend,” Sally grinned and grabbed Joe’s arm playfully.

“Gee — I wish I could — but I won’t be able to make this one.  My Pa and brothers might – but I have to stay out with the herd that night — you know — I’ve got to spell the other hands – it’s my turn,” Joe lied between his teeth.

Sally frowned and let loose of Joe’s arm.  “Sorry to hear that — but maybe Hoss will fill in for you with the ladies?”

Joe’s laugh was a sincere one this time and wasn’t forced like it usually had been of late.  The thought of Hoss out on the dance floor surrounded by girls all vying for his attention tickled him.  Though, the truth of the matter was that his huge brother, when he cut loose, was a terrific dancer.

“You all have a good time!  Catch you next time, okay?”  Joe said and kissed the girl on the cheek.

“Okay — I’ll hold you to that, Little Joe!” Sally replied and turned and continued down the sidewalk.

Joe made his way over to the feed and grain store which stood across the street from the Silver Dollar Saloon.  He placed his order with the proprietor, Clive Walters, and then decided that it was time for a well-deserved beer.

“Howdy, Little Joe!” Sam the bartender boomed as the familiar customer made his way through the swinging doors of the saloon.

“Howdy, Sam!  How about a cold one?” Joe smiled and moved to stand up at the bar.

“You’re in luck — it’s actually cold today,” Sam grinned and drew off a mug of beer from one of the large oaken barrels.  “Here you go,” Sam said and handed the young man his drink.

“Kinda quiet in here today, isn’t it?” Joe asked as he handed the bartender a dollar.

“You know — most folks are out with their herds – getting ready to do the same thing as you Cartwrights are about to do.  I sure don’t envy any of you cowboys the trip east with them steers!”

Joe frowned.  ***Well – you can envy me, Sam – I ain’t going anywhere! *** Joe thought to himself.

“Joe?”

“Yeah?” Joe asked, shaking himself from his glum daydream.  He hated that he would be staying there at the ranch while his brothers took the cattle to market.

“How’s that leg of yours doing?” Sam asked.  He had noticed how the young man had been favoring his leg as he approached the bar and couldn’t help wondering if it was the cause of Joe’s rather low spirits.  Normally Little Joe Cartwright was both cordial and a bit loud when he came into the saloon, but today he seemed meek in comparison to his former self.

“Oh – it’s fine —just fine.  Think I will go sit down awhile though,” Joe remarked and turned his back on the bartender.  He tried his very best not to limp over to the table at the rear of the bar, but failed miserably as he couldn’t stop his left leg from betraying him.

Sam wished that he hadn’t asked his patron how his leg was doing as it had no doubt set him off and made him walk away.  It wasn’t long before Ben Cartwright peered over the swinging doors to the saloon and spotted his son sitting at a table all alone.

“Howdy, Ben!” Sam sang out as he made his way back to the end of the bar.

“How have you been, Sam?” Ben smiled towards the rather rotund man and shook his outstretched hand.

“Just fine, Ben.  You about got everything ready for the drive?” Sam asked, as the man’s son had been lax on details and it had been a slow afternoon with very little conversation.

“We’re just about set, Sam.  How about getting me a beer and I’ll go see what my youngest has accomplished so far?” Ben responded and handed the bartender a silver dollar.

Sam could read Ben’s face and he knew that there was something going on that neither Cartwright wanted to get into at the time.  He poured another beer and handed it to Ben, who then turned and approached his son’s table.

“Did you get all of the orders delivered, Joe?” Ben asked as he took a seat next to him.

“Yeah — it’s going to be awhile before either one is ready though.  I just thought I’d come in here and wait,” Joe replied quietly.

Ben pulled out his pocket watch and stared at the time.  “Well, why don’t you finish your beer and then we’ll go grab some lunch?”

“How did it go at the bank?” Joe changed the subject. Not only wasn’t he hungry, but he also didn’t relish the walk down to the International House at the end of the street.  For no apparent reason his injured leg had decided to give him a fit the whole time he had been in town and Joe was trying his best to rest it so his father wouldn’t fuss over him.

“Oh, everything went fine there, we’ll have the payroll money in plenty of time to dish out to the hired hands before your brothers leave.”

“Good,” Joe answered, for lack of anything else to say at the time.  Lately every conversation he had with his father seemed both forced and edgy.  He knew that it was his own fault for trying to make light of his injury even when it had been killing him.  Joe also knew that his father was no fool and had always been able to see through his lies and could read him like a book.

“I ran into Sally Hastings a few minutes ago,” Ben paused, wondering if he should broach the subject with his son.

“Yeah — what’s new with her?” Joe took the bait, fearing that yet another one of his lies had come back to haunt him.

“Well, she said that I shouldn’t work you so hard — and wished that you didn’t have to watch the herd on Saturday so you could make it to the barn dance that they’re having.”

Joe frowned and polished off the rest of his drink.  He felt like there was no use in trying to tell another lie to top the one that he had told the young woman.  Ben sat there and waited, and hoped that his son would open up.  But that wasn’t happening.

“Why don’t you want to go to the dance, Joseph?” Ben finally asked quietly.

“It’s kind of obvious don’t you think?” Joe remarked with heavy sarcasm in his tone of voice.

“If you’re worried about your leg –well – they do have some slow dances even at barn dances you know?  They’re not all square dances,” Ben hoped to get his point across when Joe jumped back in.

“Yeah, Pa – I can just see it!  My leg goes out I fall to the floor –taking someone down with me!” Joe retorted angrily.

“Joseph — you’ve been doing pretty well lately – you haven’t had any falls in a while now—,” Ben once again tried to talk his son into going to the dance.  He hoped it would pick his spirits up if he would try.

“Oh yeah?  Have you seen me on the stairs lately, Pa?  Oh – that’ s right — the last time I took them all at once you weren’t there — but I was!  And there’s no way that I’m going to make a fool of myself at that dance.  Now — can we please change the subject?”

“I think that you ought to go and see Doctor Martin – maybe something’s changed since your last fall – maybe something has shifted or splintered off that bone?” Ben interjected with worry very evident in his tone.

“I’m not going to have Doc prodding and poking me again.  I’ve been there and done that,” Joe replied and stood from his seat.  “I’m going to go and see how that order is coming at the mercantile.”

Ben stood also and grabbed his son’s elbow to prevent his departure.  “Joseph, let’s go and get that lunch first.”

Joe broke free of his father’s hold and whispered, “I’m not hungry – you go ahead.”  With that said, the young man limped out of the saloon leaving his father standing there worrying about his son.

***********************************

As Joe drove the buckboard, loaded with supplies from the mercantile, down the road towards the feed and grain store, his eyes caught a glimpse of a big canvas tent which had been erected a half of a block from the local church.  There was a large banner in the foreground which read, “Faith Healing Revival”.  It was enough to grab his attention, and deciding to check it out later, he continued down the street.  Pulling up in front of Mr. Walter’s grain store, Joe spied his father standing there awaiting his arrival.  Ben began loading the burlap bags of feed into the remaining space there inside the wagon while his son made his way over to assist him.  Together they finished filling the buckboard to capacity and Ben made his way to the bench seat in preparation to head out to the two cow camps.  Noticing how his son lingered a few minutes before joining him at the front of the wagon, Ben stopped short of taking the reins into his hands.

“Did we forget something, Joseph?” Ben called down.

“No — but Mr. Walters told me earlier that the rest of the shipment won’t arrive until later this afternoon,” Joe began but was cut short by Ben.

“I’ve already spoken with Clive.  I told him I’d send someone back for the rest tomorrow.  There isn’t anything too important in the next load.  I think we’re good for today and the buckboard can’t take much more anyway.”

Joe looked down towards the ground and tried to work on another excuse for staying in Virginia City, now that he couldn’t use the remaining grain shipment as the reason.

“What’s wrong?” Ben finally broke the awkward silence.

“Nothing – I just wanted to hang around town for a little while, Pa – that’s all.  You’ll have the crews at both camps to unload all of this – you don’t need me do you?”

Ben paused before replying, still selecting his words carefully around his youngest son.  “Well yes and no.” Pa responded.

“Huh?” Joe asked, perplexed by his father’s statement.

Ben reached down and patted his son’s shoulder and smiled.  “Well yes – I can get the hands to help me unload all of this —but no— to me not needing you, Son.  You might not think so — especially here lately — but I need you quite a bit – and in a lot of ways.”

Joe’s eyes dropped down once again to the dusty road, feeling a bit emotionally touched by what Pa had said to him.  Though it was true that Joe, himself, didn’t believe that he was all that needed anymore, it was nice to hear that his father thought so anyway.

“Just be home by supper time, okay?  I’d like us all to sit down as a family a couple of times before your brothers have to leave on the cattle drive.”

“I will – I’ll rent a horse at the livery and make it home on time.  Thanks, Pa,” Joe answered, still refusing to look up into the compassionate face staring down at him.  Tugging his hat down over one eye he limped across the street.

Ben sighed at the sight of his son, who was hurting in so many ways that it was beginning to worry him all the more.  He wanted to mention the fact that instead of renting a horse that his son would be better off getting a surrey, but decided not to inject that into the brief conversation.  It would only be yet another reminder of Joe’s limitations.  Frustrated, but knowing that the wagon load of supplies was badly needed by his other sons Ben sent the team of horses back towards the Ponderosa.

***********************************

Joe downed a beer at the Bucket of Blood Saloon and then built up enough courage to head down the street towards the revival tent he had seen earlier.  He hesitated briefly before pulling back the wind-whipped canvas flap that was used as an entry way into the religious shelter.  Joe wondered what it had been that had pushed him there that day.  Normally, if he had any serious problems of the faith kind, he would talk to the pastor of his church, Reverend Hastings.  But, today he felt compelled to seek another source.  Slowly, and with is hat pulled towards his chest, Joe moved inside the tent and spied the man dressed entirely in black standing in front of the man-made shelter.

“I’m afraid you are a bit early, Brother,” the man in front of the tent spoke out to the approaching young man.  “The revival isn’t until later this evening.”

“Yes—  Reverend — I saw the sign and all –,” Joe replied, feeling flustered enough to head out the same way as he had come in and just forget about the whole thing.  “But, I won’t be in town tonight –and well — to tell you the truth –,” Joe continued to stammer as the other man’s piercing black eyes sought out his own.

“I always have time to speak with one of God’s lost sheep.  Is that how you’re feeling – maybe lost?”

“Yeah — well — that’s kinda it I guess,” Joe replied and hung his head down.

“I’m Brother James you don’t have to refer to me as reverend.  I am only one mere servant of the Lord trying to do his will.  And you?”

“I’m Joe — Joe Cartwright,” Joe answered and held out his hand.

Instead of just shaking the outstretched hand, Brother James held onto it and closed his eyes as if he was in deep concentration.  Joe was beginning to feel quite odd in the way that the man hadn’t let go the way that he had expected him to.  At last, after a few peculiar minutes had passed, Brother James’ dark eyes opened and he turned the young man’s hand free.

“You are injured — injured in a lot of ways my brother.  Please have a seat,” he said and pointed to one of the folding chairs.

Joe sat as he had been instructed but was just about to make an excuse to leave when he thought on what the man had just said.  Of course he was injured!  It didn’t take a faith healer or a psychic to figure that one out, not with the limp he had which had persisted all day long.  Joe figured that Brother James, or whoever he was, had noticed his approach and that had made him come to the conclusion that his visitor had incurred an injury and the man was playing on it now.  Perhaps, Joe thought, it was all a scam to get money off of him?

“There’s no need for the worry creasing your face, Joe Cartwright.  I was not referring to your limp.  No, when I held onto your hand I could feel your troubled spirit.  And I can read the disbelief in your eyes as well and I think I can ease your mind about that too.  Donations are always welcomed though they aren’t mandatory.”

“You got all of that just by looking at me – from holding my hand?” Joe asked, his voice somewhat strained with embarrassment.

“I guess you could say it’s a gift – or rather a calling if you will.  And, I have been doing the Lord’s work for many years.  So you could say that I’ve seen the look that you wear before on many faces of disbelievers.”

“The sign outside –,” Joe stopped in mid-sentence in order to get right to the point of his visit, “it says faith healer.”

Brother James cut the young man off, knowing what he was about to ask.  “You want to know if it’s true that I can heal your leg.  Is that it?”

Joe frowned, discontented that he was all that obvious in his actions and intentions.  “Well — yeah – I guess that’s it.”

“I have been able to help some people – though I claim that it’s their own personal faith in the Lord that has been conducive to them being healed in body.”

“So—then – what you’re saying is that if I had enough faith that I wouldn’t have this limp?” Joe asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“No – that is not it at all, Brother.  You see the body is the earthly shell, though the spirit or soul as I refer to it most of the time is eternal.  There are remedies to repairing the outer shell.  That’s why there are so many physicians who deal with that area.  But, only faith can heal the soul.”

“I don’t understand — I came here to see if you could fix my leg and you are talking about healing my soul!  I think my soul is just fine — but I can tell you this leg ain’t doing so hot.  So, the bottom line in all of this — is that you can’t do anything for me, right?” Joe responded and stood as he did so.

“You are quite angry — is your anger directed towards God?” Brother James asked as he looked up at the sad hazel eyes.

“No – God didn’t do this to me.  It was some guy – some flesh and blood maniac who decided to do a hack job on me to get some money off of my father.   You talk of anger?  Yeah, I’ve got anger – and plenty of it!” Joe shouted.

“Please — if you will sit with me again — let me talk to you,” the healer whispered and his soft tone of voice seemed to calm the irate visitor.

Joe took a seat again, but really didn’t hold out much hope that the man before him could be of any assistance.  But, he waited to hear what he had to offer.

“Though the body and soul are two separate factions they do work together while we are here on the earth.  You are being pulled apart by both it would appear to me.  You have hate — and a great deal of it towards this man of whom you spoke.  That hate is like a boil that festers as each day passes.”

“Yeah and you’re going to tell me to forgive and forget — right?” Joe frowned.

“No – I would not presume to say such things to you.  But, I do believe that the torment you feel deep within yourself may be preventing some of your healing.  You must somehow find a way to let it go.  Even if it means that you still walk with a limp — and still have to modify your life.”

“It’s easy for you to sit there and say that — when you weren’t the one who had your bones broken several times – and endured the pain — and the aftermath of what he did.”

“No – on the contrary, it’s not easy – not when I see such pain on another man’s face the way I see it on yours.  I do know that hate can kill you as easily as an infection, and I worry for you.  I can see the need for vengeance in your eyes, but, even that would not heal you I’m afraid.”

“Well it sure as heck would make me feel better in my head at least!” Joe admitted insistently.

“And what would you like?  Would you like to maim that man the way he’s maimed you?”

Joe hung his head once more and spoke out in a whisper, “I – I don’t know — I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“I’ve read many things in the eyes of people who have come to me over the years seeking healing.  In your eyes I read hurt and hatred, but I really don’t see that capability for brutality in them.  And I wish with all of my heart that I could rid you of the pain that you’ve suffered, but, I’m afraid that’s one personal journey that you have to make on your own.  I would like to say a prayer for your recovery — if you will allow me to?”

Joe nodded and closed his eyes in preparation for the prayer.  He could feel Brother James’ hand on the top of his head and then heard some language unknown to him.  Joe had heard, in the past from others, about some holy men who spoke in foreign tongues and he figured that must have been the words which were coming out of the other man’s mouth.  Finally, Brother James removed his hand and stared towards Joe.

“Heal your heart, Brother Joe, and let God decide on your future as far as that injury goes.”

Joe reached inside his pocket and pulled out several dollar bills.  He walked across the room where he saw a collection plate and dropped the money inside of it.

“I told you that it is not necessary, Joe,” Brother James called across the room.

Joe grinned and shrugged his shoulders.  “I’d probably just spent it on liquor anyhow.  Thanks.”  With those words spoken, Joe hurried out of the tent.

***********************************

Upon leaving Brother James, Joe decided that he would down a beer or two before heading home.  He had promised his father to be there for the family dinner that Hop Sing had prepared and though he wasn’t thrilled about it, he wouldn’t let anyone down.  As he sat in the far back of the Bucket of Blood Saloon, Joe recalled all that the faith healer had said.  It had done little to ease his mind or its need for revenge on Steven Hale.  Still swept away by internal contemplation, Joe didn’t hear the voice that had called down to him.  It took the other man repeating his greeting several times before the young man shook himself from his daze and flashed a rather embarrassed smile up at his old friend, Mitch Devlin.

“I was just about to throw this beer on your head to wake you up, Old Friend,” Mitch laughed and took a seat next to his boyhood chum.

“Sorry Mitch — guess I was somewhere else,” Joe returned and signaled Bruno the bartender over with another mug of beer.

“I saw you a little while ago coming out of that revival tent,” Mitch whispered after Bruno had turned away from setting down Joe’s beer.  “Did that guy help you?  I know he helped my pa with his bursitis.  Pa was hurting something awful and Brother James put his hand on him and spoke some funny words.  Now he’s doing so well that he was out chopping wood this morning!”

Joe frowned and took a good draw of his beer before responding to what Mitch had offered.  “I’m glad your pa is doing better.”

“You didn’t say nothing about your leg — guess he couldn’t help you, huh?”

“Guess your father has much more faith in such things than I do.  I limped in there and then I limped right back out.  But, that’s life you know,” Joe quipped as if he had come to terms with his injury.  He hadn’t.

“Sorry about that — guess it’s going to take some more time – at least that’s what Doc told you, right?” Mitch continued to try and cheer his friend.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Joe answered, after he had chugged the remaining beer in his mug.

“Are you going to the dance on Saturday?” Mitch decided to change the subject, but he had apparently chosen the wrong thing to say again.  Joe looked even more depressed after Mitch brought up the dance.

“Can’t — gotta go watch the herd,” Joe spoke abruptly and stood from the table.  “I’m going to go get something a little stronger than this watered down beer.  You want some whiskey?”

“No –and well – maybe you don’t need it either, Joe,” Mitch warned, as he noticed Joe’s apparent stagger in his walk to the bar.

“Oh I walk this way all of the time —relax!” Joe called over his shoulder and laughed as he made his approach to the counter.

Unfortunately Joe’s left leg betrayed him just as he had ordered and received his shot of whiskey.  He had just turned when his leg gave out on him and he accidentally spilled some of his drink on a nearby customer.  The other man was incensed by what had happened and quickly reached for Joe’s collar, pulling him towards him.

“Watch where you’re going, Gimp!” the man who was attired in miner’s garb fumed loudly.

Joe pushed the other man’s hands off of him and his temper flared.  “What did you call me?!”

“Gimp – want to make something of it?” the miner asked as he looked down at the smaller and younger man.  Before Joe could make another move or reply, the rowdy man planted a fist that found its target right under the young man’s left eye.

Mitch tried to push his way through the crowd to assist Joe and to help him out of what was surely going to be one heck of a brawl with the miner and his pals.  Making it through the bar and to a position which was just a yard shy of where Joe was struggling against the miner’s attack, Mitch stopped in his tracks when a knife went sailing across the crowded saloon and stuck in the bar smack between Joe and the man who had thrown the punch at him.  The room fell hushed as all heads turned towards the man who had thrown his Bowie knife from the far back of the room.  Slowly and with confidence etched in his walk, a man came forward.  He wore cowboy garb, but wore a bandana encircling his head to pull back his abundance of long black hair.  His boots were rough side out leather, the type that was usually worn by the native Indians.

“You could have killed me with that, Breed!” the miner yelled.

The half-breed smiled, unconcerned with the name he had been called.  He had heard it before and would hear such words again.  That was your life when your mother had been born pure bred Paiute and your father was a white man.

“You’re exactly right — I COULD have killed you!” the man replied and grinned as he pulled his knife out of the wooden counter top.  “Just remember that the next time.  Oh – and just for future reference — this guy’s name is Joe – not Gimp.  It would be wise for you to remember that — because the next time either of us hear you use that term we are going to skin you like a rabbit in winter!”

Before Joe could add to the conversation, the man who had spared him from being in the middle of a big fight grabbed his arm and pulled him outside of the saloon.

“I thought your brothers always told you to choose your fights wisely, Joe?” the other man chastised his friend.  “This is when half of the miners around Virginia City come up for air.  There would’ve been a hell of a fight, you know?”

“That suits me fine!  And — I’m going back in there and give that creep the punch that I owe him right now!” Joe replied vehemently.  He was still hot under the collar from what the miner had said to him, and his eye was tearing up due to the impact of the man’s fist.  Joe knew he would end up with one hell of a shiner and he wasn’t happy about going home looking like that.

“Still mean and ornery as I remembered you!” Fox grinned and hefted his knife back into its sheath.  “And, you aren’t going back in there tonight – unless you want me to go on the warpath with you out here first.”

Joe broke into a smile he couldn’t help himself when he saw the way that his old friend was looking over at him.  He had known Running Fox for many years and it had come as no great surprise to see him come to his rescue in the saloon.  The Cartwrights went way back with both Fox and his parents.  It wasn’t a welcomed marriage in the area when Samuel Carlton married a Paiute girl and the two young people had fought off bigotry for their entire lives together.  Unfortunately, their only son, who was baptized Samuel Fox Carlton, had lost both of his parents before he was out of his teenage years.  Most folks thought of it as a blessing in disguise when the Carlton ranch house had burnt to the ground.  The Cartwrights didn’t think like most folks, however.  Not only did they take in the seventeen year old Fox, but they had also dug into the facts and had ascertained that the fire had been no accident.  It had been two drunken Indian haters who had flung torches that had set the roof of the main house on fire in the middle of the night.  Though he had wished he had been there in order to save his folks, Fox had been away with his mother’s people at the time.  After discovering who had killed his parents, Fox had waited for the courts to do their job.  Justice had been accomplished, and on a cold autumn day he had watched as both of the perpetrators had been hung in the town square.  It had done little to help the young man deal with his loss, but at least he had some vindication.  It had also taught the citizens of Virginia City that as far as the Cartwright family was concerned, white, black, yellow, or red, justice and the law would know no boundaries in their homeland.

Fox had returned to the Paiute tribe for a while after a couple of years spent in the shelter of the Ponderosa.  He was dubbed Running Fox and welcomed by the Paiute tribe even though his father had been white.  Now, in his late twenties, and putting him at the same age as Hoss Cartwright, Fox shared both worlds.  He traded pelts with the white man and did whatever he could for the Paiute tribe.  After several bad winters, when game was scarce for his people, he had turned to the Cartwrights and had received from them enough beef cattle to feed the entire tribe.  Always insisting on paying back favors, Fox assisted the Cartwrights with whatever projects that came up over the years and was a welcomed guest at their home on numerous occasions.  He got along well with them all, but had acquired a specific kind of kinship with Hoss.  Perhaps it was because they were the same age or that their love of the great outdoors showed in all that they did and said.  Whatever it was, just like Hoss, Fox vowed years ago that he would always look out for the Cartwright family, and especially for the youngest son who was known as being the wildest of the bunch of them.

“Well — I could’ve handled all of those miners if I had a mind to!” Joe later regrouped himself and fell back to his usual braggadocio in referring to his prowess with his fists.

“White man speak with forked tongue,” Fox said in a tone that sounded more Indian-like than his normal lingo.

“Very funny — but I will thank you for the assist –that loud mouthed miner could use a good old fashion whooping – or better still — you got any arrows we can use when he comes out of there?” Joe quipped.  His bad mood had suddenly lifted just being around his old friend.

“Let’s go to my wagon — Running Fox has complete white man killing arsenal there!” Fox exclaimed grinning.  He pulled Joe along with him down the sidewalk.  He could detect in his friend’s gait that the young man must be suffering some very acute pain to be limping as badly as he was on the way down the street.  Fox hoped that he could help Joe in some way, but still mulled over in his mind just how he could accomplish that feat.

Joe leaned back against Fox’s buckboard and regained his composure.  He still hated that the miner had gotten away with not only the slur that he’d fired at him but also the “breed” comment he had thrown over at Fox.  Part of Joe wanted to go back into the Bucket of Blood and finish what the miner had started, and it showed in his eyes.

“Haven’t seen you in month of moons,” Fox stated, still taking advantage of the broken language of his people just to cajole his friend out of his funk.

“I didn’t like what that miner said about you,” Joe changed the subject, always on the defensive when a friend was attacked, verbally or otherwise.

“Oh – that — well – I’m used to being called a Breed, however – that new one he hurled your way sure got under your skin, Joe.”

“You mean gimp?” Joe replied and raised his eyebrows, acting surprised by the other man’s comment.  “Now WHY would you think that?”

“Because going up against a whole saloon filled with rowdy miners was not a wise thing for you to try to do.  So you DID know better – but what was said about you hurt.  And, I’ve spent a lot of years fighting comments that crawled under my own skin and got me in enough fights — so I speak without a forked tongue this time!”

“Yeah,” Joe whispered, remembering seeing Fox come home to the ranch numerous times all battered up from just such things like defending his heritage.  “Sorry — I guess it was a dumb thing for me to get all riled up about.  Glad you were there to bail me out.”

“No problem, my white brother,” Fox laughed and pulled Joe’s hat down over his eyes playfully.  “Just don’t go doing that again —you might make my knife dull on that bar – or into some loud mouth’s back!”

“So – what’ve you been up to?”

“Not much – delivered a wagon of hides up to the tribe – and then earlier this week I stopped to see Sitting Bull Cartwright.”

Joe giggled, remembering the name that Fox had given to Hoss years earlier.  “Oh you saw Hoss?  Did you go up to the north shore to see him at the cow camp?”

“Yeah — saw Know Much Cartwright too,” Fox smiled.

“Ah – Adam,” Joe laughed, as he had helped Fox rename his eldest brother and it had stuck over the years.  Though Hoss was okay with his nickname, Adam wasn’t exactly thrilled by his.

“Yes – they said that they are leaving out next week to drive the cattle to market.”

“Did they mention me?” Joe asked suspiciously.

“They tried not to — but I had to go and ask how Wild Boy Cartwright was doing!”

“I bet you got an earful with that one,” Joe sighed.

“They filled me in – on your leg and all.  You know —though they try their best not to let you in on it – they are going to miss you being with them on the trail drive.”

“Yeah – they’ll miss me like a heart attack!” Joe insisted.

Fox jabbed Joe in the ribs, again just playing along with the young man and replied, “No, you are wrong, Pale One, —imagine Sitting Bull listening to the orders of Know All Cartwright for weeks without you there to distract him?  Running Fox feel most sorry for middle son.”

“True — at least I kept Adam busy — and that kept him off of Hoss’ case most of the time,” Joe nodded.

“So—what made you come to town today?  I notice you don’t have a thing in your wagon.  You didn’t, by any chance, run into Chief Silver Hair did you?” Joe got back to his suspicions.  He had a hunch that his encounter with Fox hadn’t come about unaided.

“White men —,” Fox exclaimed and shook his head annoyed, “why must they always think the worst of us Indians?  Why must they always think we are plotting a raid?”

“Ah ha!  Then you did see Pa!  So — did he tell you to look after me or something?”

“Not in those words — but then – your language fails me at times –,” Fox began back peddling, but was soon cut off by his friend.

“Don’t give me that — you know English better than I do!  So— did Pa appoint you babysitter for the day, or what?” Joe asked once more, and this time his anger was starting to flare up again.

“Bristles down my young porcupine – it was nothing like that.  I saw your father and he told me you were having a tough time with your leg today – that’s all.  Your brothers had already filled me in on what happened to you last fall.  And, if it is revenge you want —well – then I will help you find that evil witch doctor and we will cut out his eyes!”

Joe looked up at Fox, and from the expression on his face, he could have been telling the complete truth about what he would do to Steven Hale.

“I’ll get my revenge – but when I do – well – nobody’s gonna go down for it but me.  But — thanks!” Joe whispered and patted his friend’s arm.

“Then how would Wild Boy Cartwright like to come with this “breed” and go on a little vacation instead?”

“You mean “gimp” don’t you?” Joe laughed.  He figured that if Fox had come to laugh off the name “breed” that he’d show the man that he could laugh off the ugly slur he had been given as well.

“Yes – would gimp like to go with breed up into the mountains to dance in sky with eagles?”

“Sounds like you got yourself some loco weed and have been smoking it on a regular basis, my friend.”

“Oh – right — I must talk in your native tongue or you will not understand,” Fox corrected himself and then changed his expression to a serious one and continued.  “Joe Cartwright would you like to go hunting and fishing –and basically spend a week or two goofing off with your pal Samuel Carlton – a.k.a. Running Fox?”

“You think that Chief Silver Hair would approve of that?  Speaking of eagles – he watches me like one!  He’s so sure that I’m going to mess up this leg by riding my horse – well – I’m just surprised he hasn’t sold Cochise by now.  Now – if I go asking him for a week or two off to run around with you – I can just see his face now!”

“Ah I see — Wild Boy Cartwright has changed!”

“Huh?”

“Never in all the many years that I’ve known Wild Boy has he not been able to talk his father into seeing things his way!  Albeit that means some fussing, and a little cussing, –but eventually you know how to get to your pa’s heart – and from there you go in for the kill and he ends up surrendering to whatever you ask from him.  And, knowing that no-one can pull at his heart strings better than you — well – you will use that soon-to-be black eye to your advantage too!  Unless of course – you have changed your style while I’ve been gone these past few months?”

“That sure sounds like a dare to me,” Joe muttered.

“It is,” Fox replied smiling over at his friend.  He knew that Joe had never in his entire life passed up on a dare.  It didn’t matter what kind of a dare it was, Joe would take it even if he ended up half dead by doing it.

“You’re on,” Joe shook hands with the other man.

“Then we will leave Monday – for let’s say – two weeks?” Fox asked.

Joe lifted his left hand and pointed to the star filled sky and said, “When sun rises to top of sky look for Wild Boy Cartwright up at Twin Fork’s Road.”

“You mean noon?” Fox responded and laughed at Joe’s attempt at trying to talk like an Indian.  He, of course had failed miserably and that had made it all that much more amusing to the half breed.

“Geesh – yes noon!  Sometimes I think your mom was pulling your dad’s leg.  She was probably from Cleveland Ohio – not the Paiute Nation!” Joe laughed.

“Probably,” Fox nodded and climbed up onto his buckboard.  “You need a ride home?”

“Naw – gonna go rent a horse at the livery – see you Monday!”

“Sounds good, Wild Boy, see you then!” Fox nodded and sent his team of horses towards the end of town.

Joe walked towards the livery stable with a lighter heart than he had carried in weeks.  Though his left eye was still stinging from the punch it had taken, Fox had been correct in his assumption, Joe was going to use it to his best advantage to get his father to agree to let him go on a badly needed vacation.  Thinking on how best to handle the situation, he decided to rent a surrey instead of a horse, just so he could show that he was doing exactly what his father had wanted him to do.  Joe sent the team of horses at a fast clip out of town and towards the Ponderosa to make it home in time for supper.  If he was going to work on Pa, the last thing he needed was to arrive late that night.

***********************************

Ben peered out of the window there at his study, and by the dim lamp light offered from the front porch, he was able to make out the sight of his youngest son’s arrival via surrey.  Joe didn’t waste any time making his way towards the house, evidently trying his best to reach the dinner table on time.  Ben walked over to the grandfather clock that stood by the front door and looked up at it.  *** Well, Joseph, you made it with two minutes to spare *** Ben mused to himself and walked to the dining table.

“Joe’s here – listen, Boys, remember what I told you.  Let’s not have any discussion about your brother’s leg or his mood, okay?”

“Right, Pa,” Both Adam and Hoss sounded out.

Joe opened the front door and gave his own quick glance at the grandfather clock and then smiled.  At least it was the beginning of showing his father that he had diligently obeyed his request to be home promptly.  Now all Joe had to worry about was what he would say as to why he sported a halfway closed left eye.  He said a quick hello to all of those seated around the dining table and then beat a hasty exit towards the kitchen.

“Just going to wash off real quick – be right back!” Joe called over his shoulder as he entered Hop Sing’s turf.

Standing at the kitchen sink, Joe washed his hands and grabbed a dish towel to dry them when Hop Sing approached him.  Nothing, unfortunately, got by the family caretaker.

“What wrong with your eye, Little Joe?” Hop Sing asked worriedly as he drew closer to the youngest member of the family.

“Shush — don’t give me away just yet.  I just had a little go-round in town – that’s all – it’s nothing,” Joe replied and signaled his faithful friend to keep his voice down.

“Look like you forget to duck,” Hop Sing quipped and walked over to where he had left a block of ice, which he had used earlier to fill the water glasses.  “I fix up – you come here!”

“No – it’s fine – maybe after dinner,” Joe protested.

“Eye need fixed now!” Hop Sing insisted louder and was met with Joe’s hand over his mouth.

“Quiet – Pa will hear you if you keep fussing about it.  I promise to let you fix it up after dinner, okay?”

“Now!” Hop Sing shot back, after pushing Joe’s hand away from his mouth.

“Please?” Joe pleaded, and turned his most pathetic facial expression towards the cook.

“Humph –,” Hop Sing threw back, but soon fell victim to the puppy dog looking eyes staring at him.  He relented, “After dinner – okay – you go eat before Hop Sing take out other eye!”

“Thanks,” Joe grinned and winked with his one good eye and then proceeded into the dining room.

Ben and his other two sons were already in the process of filling their plates with food by the time Joe joined them at the table.  If there had been a stranger standing next to the Cartwrights they would have noticed the odd expressions on each of their faces as one at a time they got a gander at the condition of Joe’s left eye.  Hoss had caught on first and he had looked Adam’s way, who then looked over at Pa.  Ben had seen the peculiar stares being sent around the table and it was then that he, too, noticed the black and blue eye that belonged to the person sitting to his immediate right.  Joe began to fill his plate and was making a point not to look directly towards anyone.  His father could tell that his youngest was making a valiant effort to pretend that he had come home unscathed.  Ben figured there had to be a good story behind the bruised and battered eye, but he was determined not to bring it up until after dinner.  When he noticed Hoss’ mouth was just about ready to say something about Joe’s condition he tapped his ankle with his boot under the table and gave him “the look”.  Hoss frowned but didn’t say a word.  Next it was Adam’s turn.  Hoss saw that his older brother was about to admonish their little brother for coming home injured after getting into some kind of a brawl, and he decided that if a kick under the table was the method of choice for the night, that he’d have a kick to send to Adam.

“Ouch!” Adam called towards Hoss.   “What was that for?”

Ben, knowing that the cat was about to get freed from the bag, jumped in before Hoss had to explain to Adam why he had kicked him, he called out, “Hop Sing!  This dinner looks scrumptious.  I can’t wait to try this roast.”  With his words said, and said so loudly, Adam caught onto his father’s avoidance of Joe’s condition.  He could see it on his face and it was as vivid as the blackened eye which Joe wore.

“Yeah – you outdid yourself tonight, Hop Sing!” Adam called towards the kitchen to show his father that he knew what he was doing and that he would play along.

“Let’s say grace then so we can get right to eating,” Ben stated and all those around the table bowed their heads.  “Dear Lord, thank you for this meal which was prepared with loving hands.  Thank you for all of your gifts including our family our friends and our good health.  Amen.”

When Ben had mentioned “good health” there had been a bit of a snicker which had been from the end of the table where Adam was sitting.  His father sent him another warning look as he sent around the basket of dinner rolls.

“So — how’s everything with the herd?” Joe began the conversation.

“Fine, Little Brother,” Hoss replied between bites of pot roast.  “We got everything we need about ready now.”

“What about your crew, Adam?” Joe continued.

“Yeah – the men have done a bang up job this year.  We’re about all set too,” Adam’s response came off with a tad of sarcasm shot towards Joe.  He knew that the kid had to realize that everyone was waiting for him to fess up about where he had gotten the black eye, but Joe had decided to play a game with the facts by withholding them.

“Good — glad that you two have it all under control,” Joe nodded and carved into the meat on his plate.

Ben was simply dying inside.  He wanted to grab the moving left wrist next to him and force his son’s attention in order to learn what had happened to him.  But, he would hold out until the time was right, even though it was beginning to give him indigestion.

“Anyone like more ice?” Hop Sing asked as he came out of the kitchen and stood staring right at Little Joe.

“Looks like Joe could use some –,” Adam started but his father’s narrowing eyebrows showed his displeasure.  “I – well I mean – in his water — looks like all of Joe’s ice had melted in his water glass.  Mine’s just fine though, Hop Sing.”

“Yeah — I could use a little ice in my glass, Hop Sing,” Joe played along.

The cook walked around the table and dropped some shaved ice into Joe’s water glass all the while he stared at the boy’s battered eye and shook his head annoyed.

“Thank you,” Joe nodded and Hop Sing returned into the kitchen.  He had been listening to the whole conversation around the dinner table and was waiting for the opportunity to say something about Joe coming home the way he had.  Hop Sing couldn’t believe that Ben wouldn’t have said something after just taking one look over at the boy.  He knew how the over-protective father was when one of his sons were hurt, it just didn’t make one bit of sense to him.  Deciding to get a head start on washing the dishes, he finally gave up and waited to hear shouting soon.  That would be his cue to come to Joe’s assistance or perhaps even scold the young man himself.

Joe had spoken to both of his brothers and decided that it was time to break the ice, so to speak, with his father to test the waters a bit before his big plunge later.  “You get enough help with those supplies, Pa?”

“Yes, Joseph, — I had plenty of help.  Though I will admit that I helped too – and I feel quite beat right now,” Ben replied and the way he emphasized “quite beat” made Hoss choke on his water.

“You okay?”  Ben asked Hoss as he reached over and patted his back to help.

“Yep — just – kinda took things down the wrong way, Pa,” Hoss was finally able to speak after some serious coughing.

Adam sat at the end of the table and watched the amusingly willful way in which his youngest brother had avoided talking about his own day.  Joe would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind in more than just his left eye not to know that everyone around the table knew that he had been in some sort of a fight.  He was wondering what the kid’s angle was, as he surely must’ve been up to something not to address the whole eye issue right from the start.

*********************************

The conversation dwindled during the remainder of the dinner with the three oldest Cartwrights trying their best not to stare at the injured youngest member of the family.  They all wondered when Joe would unload on them or whether he had decided to remain tight-lipped about it all unless a direct question was thrown his way.  Not surprisingly, the young man who sported the black eye excused himself from the dinner table before dessert was brought into the room.  Joe made a brief apology about ending his meal so abruptly, but said that he had a team of horses to put into the barn before turning in for the evening.  Now his absence lent its way for the others to pose questions back and forth without the main attraction listening.

“Well, he’s been fighting in the bar again.  Plain and simple — that’s it and he doesn’t want to rile Pa up about it,” Adam announced as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Naw — I think Joe would be a bit more tore up than that, Adam!” Hoss insisted and reached for his second piece of apple pie.

“Go on — you’re next,” Ben announced staring towards the kitchen where Hop Sing was standing with his arms folded across his chest.

“Boy up to mischief – plain as nose on face — or eye on face,” Hop Sing deduced.

“Well — whatever the event – it would appear that Joseph does NOT want to discuss it.  So, I say we don’t either,” Ben stated firmly as he stood from the table.  “Wonderful meal, Hop Sing, as always,” the elder Cartwright nodded towards the cook and then adjourned into the living room.

Hoss, Adam, and Hop Sing followed Ben into the next room very surprised by his calm acceptance of the whole situation.  Normally the stern father would have gotten to the fact of the matter the minute he had noticed that his son was hurt.

“You ain’t going to say anything?” Hoss asked incredulously.

“No, I am not,” Ben answered quietly.

“Oh – the leg thing,” Adam sighed as he stood next to the fireplace.  “Pa’s probably afraid that Joe’s gonna go off again — if this fight had something to do with that limp he has now.”

“Mister Ben not say anything – that fine!  But, Hop Sing will ask Little Joe when he come in,” the Oriental man was emphatic now.

“No – I don’t want ANY of you to say ANYTHING about it.  Have I made myself clear?” Ben responded firmly.

“No understand father – no understand son – Hop Sing go back to San Francisco!” Hop Sing called out indignantly as he huffed into the kitchen.  As far as he was concerned the whole Cartwright family had lost all of their marbles.

“Well – I guess that’s a yes from him,” Ben paused and indicated the padding away form of the cook.  “And now you boys – you will do as I’ve asked too.”

Hoss stood from his position on the settee and stretched his arms broadly.  “Well, if you say so, Pa.  Besides — I’m plum tuckered out from working with those ornery cows.  I’m going to get a good night’s sleep so I can make it to that dance tomorrow night.”

“Yeah — I guess I’ll turn in too,” Adam nodded and joined his brother over on the staircase.  He turned one last time to stare over at their father and called, “Pa – now that we’re going to be out of the way – YOU can find out for us about Joe’s eye, right?”

Ben smiled and replied, “Goodnight, Boys.”

Hoss and his brother walked solemnly up the stairs still confused about why their father had chosen to go easy on Joe, which was a rare thing for him to do.  By the time both men had reached the second floor, they had come to the conclusion that Pa was just trying to be kind to the kid since he had gone through so much with his leg and seemed to be doing much worse lately.  If Joe had been one hundred per cent healthy, both brothers agreed that there would have been a big blow up at the dinner table instead of the poorly done charade of pretending that no-one had noticed the boy’s shiner.  Too tired to dwell on the subject any longer, Adam waved to his brother Hoss as he walked into his bedroom in order to get some sleep.

*********************************

Ben held a novel on his lap and had read the same page over and over again while waiting for his youngest son to reappear.  He couldn’t focus on anything other than how to deal with what was going on with the lad.  Ben didn’t want to treat Joe differently just because he had a small handicap.  But, then again, the anxious father realized that his son thought of his infirmity as something much more egregious than anyone else did.  No-one else had taken the tumbles that Joe had taken over the past six months, nor dealt with the insecurity of never knowing what would make his leg go numb without warning.  All things considered, a black eye wasn’t exactly a major thing at that particular moment.  Joe’s dealing with his handicap was a much more important issue now.  Ben was afraid that if his son’s fight had anything to do with the fact that he was in town and limping quite badly, that confronting him about it so soon might start a big fracas between the two of them.  He had to decide how to tactfully get Joe to tell him what had happened in Virginia City, while controlling his desire to scold him for fighting.  While he was still mulling the numerous scenarios over, Joe entered the house and removed his jacket.

Feeling his father’s eyes following his movements as he walked to the staircase, Joe paused briefly before taking the first step up to his room.  He turned around and called a quick goodnight to the man and then began to ascend the stairs.  Ben could stand no more and he had to say something.

“Joseph!” Ben called out with a bit of annoyance in his tone of voice.

“Yeah, Pa?” came Joe’s innocent reply.

“Going to bed so early?” Ben decided to opt for tact before using his normal stern approach.

“I’m beat – see you in the morning,” Joe replied as he fought the urge to smile over using the words he had chosen.

Ben advanced over to the staircase briskly and reached for his son’s left arm, gently squeezing it.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what, Pa?” Joe responded, but was having a very tough time masking the truth any longer.  He was well aware what his father wanted from him, but he didn’t think it was the right time to get into it.  Joe wanted to plan it out to his best advantage in order to garner Pa’s compliance when he was ready to hit him up about going away with Running Fox.

Ben frowned and shook his head wearily.  “Nothing – go on to bed,” Ben caved in to the look on his son’s battered face and the knowledge that the boy had no intention of telling him how he had sustained the shiner.  Reluctantly he released Joe’s arm from his grasp.

“See you in the morning, Pa,” Joe called over his shoulder as he made his way up the stairs.

**********************************

****Too bad, Young Man, looks like that set didn’t take. The voice in Joe’s subconscious mind returned to haunt him as he tossed and turned on his bed.   Don’t you fret I’ve got just the thing to fix it with too!  Hold on a minute and I’ll go get my bag.   Joe squint his eyes to see where the man had gone.  Apparently the man, who was supposed to be a doctor, had gone into the main room of the office in order to fetch something.  The sweat from Joe’s brow made it down to his mouth and it burnt his cracked and parched lips.  He had asked the man for water, but had been told that it might upset his stomach.  Wishing that the Ponderosa ranch hand, Cliff, hadn’t left him there alone in the town of Sand Dust, Joe worried how proficient the doctor was in such things as setting a broken leg.  He also wondered why it would have to be redone so soon after the same doctor had done it the first time.  Joe couldn’t remember at that point whether it had been a few days or a few weeks since Cliff had headed back to the ranch with the string of horses that they had purchased from the Filmore ranch, just outside of Sand Dust.  However the amount of time that had passed, he was certain that the bone hadn’t been given the proper amount of time to set before anyone suggested it to be re-broken.  Joe cringed at the thought.  He hoped the man would give him a powerful sedative before starting the procedure.  Before he could contemplate any further, the doctor reappeared in the doorway with something clutched in his right hand.

Squinting once more towards the approaching man, Joe gulped hard when he saw the small mallet held there in the doctor’s right hand.  Surely that wasn’t going to be used on his leg?

“W—what’s that for?” Joe stuttered, fear causing his chest to heave in and out rapidly.

“Now Mr. Cartwright — you know I have to go get that bone set correctly.  If you hadn’t tossed and turned so much after I first set it – well – we’d probably not need to go to these extremes.  But – that’s neither here nor there at this point,” The doctor replied quite brusquely, as he readied what was needed.  Soon both of his patient’s wrists and ankles were securely tied down to the table in order to keep him from bolting up once the procedure had begun.

“Can’t you just wait?  I – I mean my father should be arriving any day now — I’d kinda like him with me before you do this!”

“Nonsense — by the time your father is at your side everything will be all taken care of.  Now you just lie back and let me get to this.  Anticipation is often worse than the actual pain.”

“You’re going to give me something to knock me out, right?  I mean – that mallet there — looks like something a carpenter would use — not a doctor!  It’s going to hurt like hell.”

“No – nothing for pain I’m afraid, Young Man.  You’re just going to have to tough this one out.  Now – let’s count – shall we?” The other man smiled sadistically.

“Please — just give me something – anything – whiskey – a shot – whatever!” Joe pleaded loudly.

The doctor sighed.  He was becoming very aggravated with his patient and it showed all over his face.  If the young man persisted in making so much noise, well then, he would have to be gagged.  Before Joe knew what was going on, the man stuffed a large wad of cotton material inside his mouth.  With his wrists tied down to the table, there was nothing that he could do to rid his mouth of the gag either.  It was then that the panic heightened and Joe struggled with all of his might to get his bindings loose.

“Okay I’ll do the counting, one — two — three!” The doctor announced calmly, and then came down onto Joe’s left leg with the heavy wooden mallet.  The awful shattering sound of wood hitting solid bone echoed throughout the room.  Joe’s ears couldn’t hear it at that point though.  Instead, his mind had pulled him away from the horrendous brutality, just as the mallet had hit its target.  A strange array of colors, like a kaleidoscope, played in his mind and then sudden blackness hit his mind’s eye before Joe passed out cold.****

“NO!” Joe screamed, as he bolted up in his bed and fought the covers which had trapped his legs during his slumber. With his curls now matted to his forehead with fearful sweat, Joe sat there trying to catch his stolen breath and ward away the horrifying sights and sounds that were much more than just a nightmare.  If it hadn’t been a total recall of his suffering at the hands of Steven Hale, then it wouldn’t have been so frightening to him.  But, all that he had witnessed in his slumber had, indeed been a factual account of how the evil doctor had purposefully re-injured his leg.

Ben heard the scream just as he was getting ready to climb into his bed.  He pulled on his robe and hurried down to his youngest son’s room.  By the time that he got into Little Joe’s door he saw the heads of both Hoss and Adam peering out from their own doorways.

“It’s alright – you both go back to bed.  Just another nightmare — I’ll handle it,” Ben whispered to his sons before turning the doorknob and entering Joe’s room.

The room was pitch black as the worried father made his way closer to his son’s bed, but that wasn’t a problem.  There had been so many other nightmares over the years, which had warranted him being in that particular room, that Ben could in fact find each piece of furniture with his eyes closed.  He reached the night stand and felt for a match.  Soon Pa had the lamp lit and moved it a bit closer to the edge of the table in order to get a view of what he was dealing with.  He could see that Joe was trying his best to recover from some frightening event, but was still fighting with his bedcovers to free himself.

“Here,” Ben whispered, as he reached over and helped Joe’s left leg out of the bunched up blanket.  “Looks like you kind of trapped yourself there, Joseph,” Pa gave a reassuring smile in a valiant effort to force some calm into the situation.

Joe couldn’t speak.  He was still emotionally dealing with what the dream had invoked inside his body and his soul.  Ben could read the anguish on his boy’s face and it caused him to feel some of it himself; right inside of his heart.  He knew that somehow Hale was behind what had just happened to his son and he hated that the man still walked the face of the earth free from retribution from all that he had done.  Ben also knew that Joe shared in those same thoughts daily, and as his leg worsened, so did his hatred for the man who had caused the damage to it.  Pulling the lamp a tad closer to get a look at his son’s left leg the anxious father shook his head sadly.  Settling down on the bed next to Joe, he stared down at his son’s injured leg.

“Joe – your left leg looks twice the size of your right one.  You were on it too much today, weren’t you?” Pa asked, as the extent of the swelling was easy to detect, even from underneath the cotton long-john pant leg.

“Yeah — yeah I guess I was,” Joe admitted, glad that Pa didn’t start right in on questions regarding his dream, and had instead opted for worry over his injury.

“Let me go get something that might help with the pain – be right back, okay?” Ben asked softly.

Joe nodded hoping to have a few more minutes, in his father’s absence, to pull himself together emotionally.

Ben ruffled a hand through his son’s curly hair as he arose from the bed and headed out of the room.  He knew Joseph well and that the best thing he could offer the boy was a little time to think and then re-enter the picture with some tender loving care to help ease the pain.  He would be back after spending a little while in the kitchen with Hop Sing.  The cook had great hearing, perhaps from honing his talents as an avid eavesdropper over the years with his American family, and was wide awake the minute that he had heard Joe’s anguished cries.  He knew that Ben would be making an appearance downstairs and had already put on a pot of coffee for the man by the time that he entered the kitchen.

“Little Joe have nightmare — Hop Sing think maybe Mister Ben should find out what caused the eye to go black and maybe he have answer to cause of nightmare,” Hop Sing yielded his advice while touching the coffee pot to see if it was hot enough to pour for his boss.

“You’re probably right on that point, Old Friend.  You were probably right early this evening too – but I didn’t want to press Joe at the time.  Now – maybe if I had — well –,” Ben trailed off, worried for his son and what his injury was doing to him both emotionally and physically.

“It fine — Mister Ben — Little Joe tell you when you go back up.  You sit for a little while and drink coffee with Hop Sing first,” the cook insisted and again felt the temperature of the pot of coffee.  Finally, it was just hot enough to pour.  The two men sat there for about a half of an hour and spoke of all that they had noticed about Joe’s behavior over the past few months, and tried to think of something that might help him.  Coming up blank in the emotional department, Ben settled for some soothing salve for Joe’s leg and an ice pack for his swollen eye.

“Thanks — now you go on to bed, Hop Sing.  I’ll let you know how I did in the morning, okay?” Ben smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder as he turned out of the kitchen.

“Morning be here soon — Hop Sing go get few winks.  Night Mister Ben,” Hop Sing replied and moved towards his bedroom just off from the kitchen.

Joe rinsed his perspiration soaked face for the third time.  He had to try to come out of the memories or he would feel paralyzed with fear for the remainder of the night.  Just as he was tenderly drying away the cool water from his face, taking special care of his battered eye, Ben came into the room with a tray in his hands.

“Sorry I woke you, Pa,” Joe apologized, embarrassed but secretly relieved to have his father’s company.

“Nonsense, in fact I wasn’t even sleeping,” Ben smiled over at his son as he set the tray down onto the night stand.  “I had just finished reading that new Dickens novel and wasn’t even in bed when I heard you.”

Joe limped slowly over to the side of the bed and took a seat there next to his father.  “Guess I woke up the whole house, huh?”

Ben wrapped his arm around his son’s shoulder and pulled him closer.  “Everyone but the two of us are sound asleep now — so don’t give that another thought, Son.”

Joe stared over at the contents of the tray and then up at his Pa.  “Ben Cartwright, M.D. again, huh?” He grinned and thought back to three years ago when his father had to play doctor in order to stitch up his side due to the faulty sutures which had come undone due to their very first encounter with the evil doctor Hale.

“Oh yes — I’ve brought up a little something of everything that I could think of to patch you up this time,” Ben smiled as he first reached for the ice pack.  “Let’s start with that eye, shall we?”

Joe nodded sheepishly.  It had been his insistence not to speak about his black eye which might have set the whole string of events into motion that night, and he figured that Pa had come to that conclusion as well.

“You hold that over that colorful eye of yours and then scoot yourself back to the headboard so I can get to that leg,” Ben instructed forcefully but his compassion showed in his facial expression.

“It’s okay — it swells up – all of the time — but by tomorrow –,” Joe was cut short by his father’s finger.  It was just a point towards the head of the bed and the narrowing of Pa’s eyebrows which stopped his protests.  Joe pulled himself back against the pillows and held the ice filled bag up to his eye.

Ben covered his son’s right leg with the sheet and blanket for warmth, but kept the other leg exposed so that he could further inspect it.  He pulled the left leg of the boy’s long john bottoms up to the knee.   “I don’t like the look of this, Son.” He commented as he uncapped the tin of salve that Hop Sing had provided.

“I don’t like the looks of it either — nor the feel of it.  But – hey – it’s the way of things, right?” Joe remarked with a tired and forced smile on his face.

“Well, let’s see if we can make you a little more comfortable.  Maybe if I rub some circulation into it – well – it might just make the swelling go down a bit.  Okay?”

Joe grinned and shrugged his shoulders.  “If it will make YOU feel better, Pa – go ahead – at least you’re one doctor who I know won’t hurt me.”

Ben caught onto Joe’s statement and the inflection in the words that he had chosen.  It was then that he knew that he was correct in his assumption that his son’s nightmare had something to do with Steven Hale.  Gently and rhythmically, Ben rubbed the strong scented salve onto the injured leg.  Joe groaned inadvertently a few times, and his father gauged the pressure that he used on his son’s leg by those sounds.

“Let me know if I’m rubbing your leg too hard, okay?” Ben asked worriedly.

“You aren’t hurting me, Pa – some parts I can’t even feel — it’s numb under my knee,” Joe responded sadly.   He closed his eyes to stop the reminder of how he had come to that point in his life, due to his injury, that he couldn’t even feel his father’s touch.  He hated the fact that he was half-crippled.  He hated showing weakness.  But most of all he hated that his injury had affected his father, his brothers, and himself so much.

“The numbness — Doc says it’s some sort of nerve damage.  But, he does think that it will eventually pass, Joe.  Just lie back and relax – I’m almost done,” Ben whispered as he continued to massage his son’s leg from the knee down to his ankle.

“I figured that you’d be asking me about my nightmare by now.”

“I wouldn’t have to be a psychic to figure that one out, Joseph, would I?”

“Yeah — it was Hale – the time he broke that bone — hope I don’t go back to sleep and dream about the time he cut into my leg and buried that scalpel!”

“Here – drink this slowly,” Ben stopped massaging his son’s leg long enough to reach to the night stand and retrieve a small shot of brandy which he had brought up to help with any pain that Joe might be feeling.

“Thanks,” Joe nodded and accepted the drink from Pa.  “Okay – so you figured the dream out.  You gonna ask me about the shiner?”

Ben pulled the pant leg of Joe’s long johns back down to cover the well-salved leg.  Then he reached for the blanket and covered his son’s chest before replying.

“I think that I did that – or tried to earlier,” Ben sighed.  He tapped the lid down to the salve and then stared down at his son.  “Whatever happened must have brought on that dream of yours.  I take it that you were in some kind of a fight?”

“Yeah – well — kinda.  I didn’t have the chance to hit back though,” Joe frowned.

“Yes, I noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“At dinner – while you were doing your best to avoid staring right at your father – he did notice that your left hand had done better than your eye.  Your knuckles weren’t even scraped.  So – I deduced that the fight had to be short lived.”

“Who said you weren’t a psychic?” Joe laughed and tossed down the remainder of his drink and handed the glass to his father.

“No not psychic, I just know my son very well.  Now tell me – who took a swing at you – and why?”

Joe frowned again and crossed his arms over his chest.  Ben could tell that his son was still seething over what had taken place in town that day.

“This miner at the bar – my leg kinda gave out on me a little – and I accidently bumped him just a bit.  I was apologizing – when he called me —,” Joe stopped in mid-sentence as his eyes trailed down towards his chest.  He hated to say the word because he was beginning to believe that the ugly slur that had been said about him might just have been warranted.

“Called you what, Son?” Ben asked softly, as he gingerly lifted Joe’s chin up a tad in order to direct his attention.

“He called me a “gimp”,” Joe stated with deep hurt in his voice.

Ben shook his head, disgusted by the insensitivity of some people.  “He was probably just a loud mouthed drunk.”

“No – he just happened to watch me walk – and I guess gimp is as good a word as cripple would’ve been, Pa.”

“You are neither word.  You have a minor limp – which may go away in time.  No-one needs to label people like that.  That’s what’s wrong with some people in this world!”

“Yeah — that brings me to why I didn’t get to throw him the complimentary Cartwright punch in response.”

“Huh?” Ben questioned, confused by Joe’s statement.

“Well – someone else who’s had to deal with labels kind of came out of nowhere and bailed me out of the situation.  I think you know who I’m referring to, Pa,” Joe’s eyebrows went up to see if his father could read the accusation in the tone of his voice and in his facial expression.

“Oh – Fox,” Ben nodded, and had to fight off a smile.  The truth of the matter was that he had run into the young man earlier in the day, and he just happened to mention that Joe was in town.  Truth being told, Ben had also asked Fox to keep an eye out for the boy just in case there was any trouble after he had left for the Ponderosa in order to deliver the supplies to Hoss and Adam.

“So I guess thanks to YOU – well — I got away with only one black eye.”

“What do you mean because of me, Joseph?”

“You most likely asked Fox to babysit me – am I right?” Joe continued to accuse his father both in his words and in the suspicious hazel eyes which were focused on Pa.

“I did NO such thing!” Ben protested.  “All I did was to mention that you were in town – and that he should look you up before he left.  And just what’s wrong with that, Young Man?”

Joe grinned and patted his father on the arm.  “Nothing, Pa – absolutely nothing’s wrong with you doing that.  I was glad that he jumped in anyhow.  At least I only have one bruised eye and no ripped clothes for Hop Sing to jump on me about.”

“Okay — now that we’ve gotten all of the confessions out of the way – I’d just like to know why you didn’t tell all of us about the fight when you first came home?”

“Well – you know me — I’m always working things out in my head,” Joe dodged the truth of the matter.

“Oh – I see,” Ben nodded his head and smiled.  “So – you wanted to wait in order to use the situation to your advantage, huh?  There must be something you want from me.  Am I right?”

“Am I THAT easy to read?” Joe grinned sheepishly, finally realizing that he wasn’t quite as clever as he thought that he was.  Pa had much more than fatherly intuition, he had years of experience in dealing with Joe’s schemes.

“Yes – of course you are, Joseph!” Pa laughed as he reached over to push the hair out of his son’s eyes.  The thick brown curls were still wet from perspiration and hung down past his eyebrows as though Joe had been caught in a downpour.

“Well – then I might just as well go ahead and ask you.  Pa – Fox wants me to go away with him for a week or two.  You know – to do a little hunting and fishing?”

Ben stared over at his son as though he had completely lost his mind.  “How hard did that man hit you anyhow?”

“Huh?”

“Well – it must’ve been hard enough to knock all of the common sense right out of you, Joe!”

“Why do you say that?”

“Why – look at yourself!  You’ve got a leg that’s doubled in size – and you admit that it’s given you fits all day.  You think that I want you gallivanting all over the countryside with your leg as bad as it is now?”

“I ain’t getting no better no matter what!” Joe insisted hotly.

“Watch that tone with me.  It might be the middle of the night – but I’ll still get on your case if you irk me enough, Joseph.”

“Sorry,” Joe responded quietly and hung his head.

Ben stared at his dejected son and said, “And don’t go giving me that look either!  You know that you are playing this for all it’s worth.  You’re not going to get your way about this little trip of yours – no matter what kind of sad look you cast my way.  Not this time at least.  You need to take it easy — and that means no riding.  Now you know what both Doc Martin and Harold Peele both suggested for your care in order to get that leg well.”

“But – Pa – I won’t be riding the whole time.  I promise!  We’ll set up a camp and stay around close – honest!   I just have to get away from all of this for a little while.  And now – what with Hoss and Adam going on that cattle drive – and me being stuck here – it just reminds me of all the things that I can’t do.”

“You WILL do all of that again – just not now, Joe,” Pa tried to force a calmer tone to his voice.

“Will you at least think about it?  Please?” Joe tried one final time before giving up for the night.

Ben stood from the bed and gathered up the salve and the brandy glass.  He frowned as he reached over and patted his son’s shoulder.  “You keep that ice pack on until you fall asleep.  That eye will be completely shut by the morning.  And that’s just because you were too darned stubborn to come in this evening and tell me the truth of the matter!”

“I get my stubbornness from my Pa,” Joe quipped as his father moved to the bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Joseph.  I hope you sleep now – with no more bad dreams.  If you need me – just come and get me.”

“Pa?”

“Yes?” Ben asked, with both exasperation and exhaustion displayed in the way that he responded.

“Will you just think on it and tell me tomorrow?” Joe had to try one last time, hoping in his exhaustion that Pa might relent and approve of the trip request.

“I will think on it IF you will go to sleep!” Ben conceded and headed out of the bedroom.

Joe closed his eyes and hoped that he’d be able to do as his father requested.  Though the nightmare had been awful, it might have broken the ice with Pa enough to make him relent and give his permission to go hunting with Fox.  Joe was sure that a couple of weeks spent away from the daily monotony would help him.  It wouldn’t do anything to help him physically but it would definitely help him emotionally.  With that his final thought, he finally drifted off to sleep.

*********************************

Limping down the flight of stairs the next morning, Joe cast a glance over to his father’s study and confusion filled his face.  He knew that he was a bit late in getting up, but he figured that his brothers would still be in the dining room finishing up their breakfast.

“Gee — how long did I sleep?” Joe asked, yawning while rubbing the back of his neck.

Ben looked up from his ledger book and smiled.  “It’s noon, Son.”

“Gosh – Pa — why did you let me sleep till noon?”  Joe shot back, and hurried to the credenza in an attempt to catch up with his brothers.

“Stop right there!” Ben’s sang out loudly and it had the desired effect.  Joe stopped dead in his tracks and then he spun around towards his father’s commanding voice.

“Why?”

“I’ve been thinking on that little vacation of yours and I’ve come up with a middle ground, so to speak.  If you will make your way over to the sofa I’ll tell you about it,” Ben replied as he walked to the fireplace.  Joe reluctantly moved closer to his father, so sure that Pa was still dead set against letting him go off with Fox.

“What kind of middle ground?” Joe returned as he took a seat where he had been directed.

“Perhaps instead of “middle ground” I should have used the term “deal”,” Ben grinned and eased down into his red leather chair.

“Okay – then what kind of a deal?”

“If you will stay put — all day today and most of the day tomorrow – right here in the living room – resting that leg — and IF the swelling has gone down all the way by tomorrow night — then I will let you go off on that trip with Fox,” Pa announced and waited to hear the wheels turning in his son’s mind.  He knew that Joe hated confinement and wondered if he would take the deal, or try to barter down to something more to his liking.

Joe, frowning at first, finally broke into a grin and reached across the coffee table to shake his father’s hand.  “You’ve got a deal, Pa.”

Ben shook the outstretched hand but he couldn’t hide the bewildered look on his face.  Joe never before had given in this fast, there had to be something up that he wasn’t admitting.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Pa?”

“Oh – just wondering why you agreed to my deal without any argument about it,” Pa confessed.

“Well – the leg – kinda smarts a bit – and if I’m going to be doing all that riding –,”

“All of that WHAT?”  Ben’s come-back was a loud reminder of the promise that Joe had made the previous night up in his bedroom.

“No – I didn’t mean all THAT MUCH riding!  You know — just to get to the camp and all,” Joe was quick to address his father’s objections before Pa pulled the whole deal off of the table.

“Yes – that’s what I thought you said,” Ben nodded and sent a smile over to Joe as he stood from his chair.  “Now I’ve got papers to work on, and later on your brothers and I are representing this family at the dance in town.  So — you sit back and relax and I’ll have Hop Sing bring you in something to eat and drink.”

“I can walk to the danged dining room you know!” Joe called across the room as Pa walked to the kitchen.

“Joseph!” Ben’s resounding tone was another reminder that he expected his son to do exactly as he had agreed to do, or else.

“Yes, Sir — I’ll just sit here and wait to be waited on,” Joe quipped and eased his left leg onto the settee.

*********************************

Ben’s plan backfired and he had very mixed feelings when he took one final look at his son’s leg on Sunday night.  If he was to be totally truthful with himself and with Joe, he had hoped that the leg would be just as swollen as it had been on Friday night.   But the swelling had gone down.  Joe had endured two days of complete rest and that had done the trick.  Not one for reneging on a deal with any of his sons, or with anyone else for that matter, Ben had to do as he had promised and let Joe leave the following morning.  Of course while the young man happily packed his gear upstairs, his father was downstairs spreading the news to Joe’s brothers.  Each of them voiced their own concerns over what might happen to Joe and his injury if he was left to his own devices.  Ben assured Adam and Hoss that he had spoken at length with Fox the previous night at the dance, and he had promised to look after Joe and if he felt that his injury was doing worse that he’d insist that they cut their trip short.  The three men pacing the floor downstairs finally came to the conclusion that by sheltering Joe, or by making him feel different, no matter how good their intentions had been, wasn’t the right thing to do.  Joe wanted to feel normal.  They couldn’t help feeling apprehensive, especially when they had seen Joe limping down the stairs that night with a bedroll in his hand.

“Hey, Little Brother, that cattle drive will be over in a couple of weeks.  How about you postpone this little trip and then when Adam and I get back we can all go with you?” Hoss took one final shot at preventing his brother from leaving.  He was well aware of the fact that they would be many miles away with the herd and there wouldn’t be any way to come to his brother’s aid if he got hurt or made his injury worse while out somewhere with Fox.  Just the thought of it scared him.  Hoss had always tried his best to look out for his little brother and this time he wouldn’t be around in case there was trouble.

“Nice try, Brother!” Joe laughed and tossed his gear on the credenza.  “And before you pipe up with your own try, Older Brother Adam, just forget it – save your breath.”

“Well, if you’ve got to do this, Kid, at least use your head and listen to your body when it needs to rest,” Adam returned.

“Gee – you’d think this was my first time away from hearth and home!  I AM a big boy you know — and I can find my way back home just fine.  Or perhaps that’s what you’re worried about?  Maybe you think I won’t come back and you’ll end up having to do my chores when you get back from the cattle drive?”

“Very funny,” Ben broke into the conversation, not wanting it to escalate.  He hated to see all of his sons heading out as it was.  It would make for a lonely couple of weeks, and though all three of his sons had been away together before, it didn’t make it any easier on the worried father’s heart.

“And, just to remind you, Joseph —,” Ben paused and dropped a hand down onto the boy’s shoulder and pressed hard enough to get his attention, “you have two weeks — tops!  ALL of YOUR chores will be right here waiting on you.  And by the time you get them done — well — the three of you boys will be reunited and once again bliss will be mine!”

“Take care of yourself, Kid” Adam said and patted Joe’s back as he turned for the stairs.  “This big lug here and yours truly have to go turn in now.  We’ll be heading out before dawn breaks, and long before you or Pa are even awake.”

“No, I don’t reckon that’s right, Adam,” Hoss announced as he moved with his older brother to the stairs.  “Pa will be up all night worrying about the whole lot of us and you know it!”

“Just remember that,” Pa called over to his two oldest sons.  “And – you youngsters will someday be in my shoes, so don’t get cocky.  Wait until your own boys leave home!”

“You got any kids?” Hoss asked Adam with a wink.

“No —- not me — do you have any, Hoss?” Adam laughed, and turned for the staircase long enough to see Pa shaking his head with an aggravated look on his face.

“Get to bed — those cows aren’t going to move themselves!” Ben called to Hoss and Adam, after trying his best to come up with a snappy come-back, but failing to do so, he just decided to throw one final command their way.

“Yes, Sir we’re going right now,” Adam and Hoss gave a mock salute to their father and then made their way up to the second floor.

When they were all alone, Joe put his hand on his father’s arm and stared into his concerned brown eyes.  “Pa, don’t worry about me.  I promise you that I’ll be careful.  Thanks for not making a fuss about me leaving – well – other than basically locking me up here in the living room for two straight days,” Joe grinned.

“If you get to hurting too bad —,” Ben began but was cut off.

“I know – I know – come back Joseph — don’t stay away just to try and prove a point.  I’ve heard it before, Pa.  I do listen to you – well — most of the time!” Joe laughed and then limped to the staircase.

“I’ll see you in the morning before you leave.  Goodnight, Son,” Ben called to his youngest and tried to sound as upbeat as he could muster.

“Sure, Pa — see you in the morning – goodnight,” Joe nodded to his father and smiled over at him.  He then turned and headed up to his room.

Pa couldn’t help noticing the continued limp to his son’s left leg.  He wished that he had never made any kind of a deal with Joe.  He decided it was a stupid thing to do, but he really didn’t think that the swelling would go down as it had.  But Pa worried all the more because of the fact that Joe would not be resting on the trip and that would mean his leg would suffer for it.  Sighing Ben finally admitted that his son needed time away to take his mind off of his injury and the limitations which he had been dealing with.  Ben hoped that Fox would keep a good eye out for his son.  With that his final thought, he headed up the stairs for bed.

**********************************

Joe Cartwright and Samuel “Fox” Carlton couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day to begin their journey.  The fresh spring air worked like a tonic, filling both of the young men’s lungs with a spirit of renewal.  Casting a glance heavenward, Joe noticed that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and only perfect weather to start the sojourn with his old friend.  The sun was directly above Joe’s head when he pulled Cochise’s reins back at the appointed spot and waited for Fox’s approach.  The other man came riding down Twin Fork’s Road only a few moments later, and greeted his friend with a smile and a hand held straight up, with the Indian sign for peace.

“How!” Joe called over to Fox, and broke into a grin.  Fox could, in fact, speak better English than Joe, but he enjoyed throwing in some teachings from his mother’s ancestors every now and again.

“Is Wild Boy ready for long journey to where sun meets the mountains?” Fox asked and pointed eastward.

“Wild Boy ready – let’s go!” Joe replied eagerly and kicked at the sides of his mount.

And so began the week of relaxing and enjoying a companionship which had been forged ever since Fox had first come to the Ponderosa.  Joe enjoyed the light conversations he shared with his old friend, and a much easier way of living than he had known back home.  The only real chores, out in the wilderness, were building a nightly fire and catching wild game for their meals.  Fox had honed the skills of his mother’s people, and was an expert at tracking rabbits, fowl, deer, or whatever the choice of a dinner main course that the two wanted, which was decided on every morning.  They had also spent numerous afternoons lying in the tall grass on their backs, lazily waiting for a fish to pull at the lines from their fishing poles.  While Fox had proven to be the best hunter of wild game, Joe excelled at catching trout and had hauled in more than his share of them.  But, any competition was purely light hearted, as neither man cared who brought in the most food, as there was always plenty to eat by supper time.

Fox watched as his friend went about preparing a new pot of coffee.  The night, though it was spring, had turned very cool there in the high elevation where their camp had been made that afternoon.  In fact, it had been so cold, that they had already polished off a whole coffee pot of the strong brew by the time dinner was done.  Joe, who had left most of the food preparation to his friend, not being the best cook of the two, had taken over the duty of coffee maker.  Though his coffee was a tad bitter and almost thick enough to chew, Fox never complained.  He had scrutinized Joe’s every move since they had first left the Ponderosa.  As each day passed into the next, Fox could tell that though there was a smile on the young man’s face and even laughter twittering from Joe’s mouth every now and then, he was still immersed in a world of torment.  Never one to complain, or slow down their progression into the mountains, Joe had willed his leg pain away.  Fox could tell it hadn’t worked, and it was growing more intense, especially that evening.  He would catch a glimpse of a grimace when Joe thought his friend wasn’t looking, and had also heard a muffled groan or two, which had inadvertently slipped out, when Joe bent to refill the two canteens earlier in the day.

Fox remembered how, in detail, Ben Cartwright had described the situation to him before the dance that had been held in Virginia City, two nights before the trip up to the mountains had begun.  He listened intently to a very distraught parent who was consumed with worry for his youngest son.  Fox had grown accustomed to Ben’s behavior during the years that he had spent with the family after losing his parents.  The patriarch had acted as a surrogate father at times, and he knew the depth of concern that the man held for all of those that he loved.  Fox considered himself very fortunate to have found a family who cared for him, and for each other so strongly.  He felt indebted to them for looking beyond his different skin tone and for giving him a good start when he had finally ventured out on his own.  Now he was alone with the one known to be the wildest of the clan.  Joe no longer acted the part though.  Instead, Joe seemed older than his years and it was easy to see that he was wounded in both body and spirit.  Fox had been very cautious not to bring up his friend’s impairment.  He knew Joe needed time away from those who tended to hover over him constantly.  “Wild Boy” wanted to be normal in every way, even if his body wouldn’t accommodate his desire.  Fox had to find a way to approach his friend about the situation and hope Joe wouldn’t raise the invisible barrier that he had built to protect his feelings regarding his leg and how he had come to be lame.  He knew that a good deal of Joe’s problem was that he couldn’t let go of his desire for revenge on the evil doctor who had so terribly mangled his leg.  Fox could see the red flames as they danced behind the hazel eyes, when Joe would grow suddenly quiet and look into his coffee cup.  Joe was intelligent enough to know that even by killing Steven Hale it would not change the after effect of what the man had done to his leg, and yet, Fox knew it was what stabbed at his friend’s heart daily.  Love and hate, Fox knew each emotion very well.  Both feelings had the capability to be destructive and costly.  Deciding to broach the subject by using his own personal challenge to overcome hatred, Fox began to try to get through to Joe.

“You know that your coffee gets a bit better each time you make it,” Fox began.

Joe gave a wry smile and answered, “Did you say better or bitter?”

“Both,” Fox laughed and took another sip of the brew.  “You’ve been kind of quiet today, Joe.  Do you think we’re doing too much?”

Joe leaned back against his saddle and stared over at his friend before replying to his question.  Stretching his left leg out towards the roaring fire, his face winced as he stated gruffly, “I’ve been waiting for you to begin the leg lecture.  Actually, I’m surprised you lasted this long!”

“Did I use the word “leg”?” Fox retorted.

Joe frowned and shook his head, knowing he had come off too caustic in his reply to a simple question.  “Sorry,” Joe muttered.

“So — do you want to talk about it — or do you want me to just shut up?”

“There’s not much to talk about — the leg’s killing me – but it would probably feel this way whether I was here or back at the ranch house,” Joe confessed.

“Maybe you should pull your boot off for a while?  It might help.”

Joe laughed, but it was full of bitter tones and not the normal lightheartedness that he was famous for prior to his injury.  “If I could get this boot off I would — I tried to do just that while you were settling down the horses.  Leg’s too swollen — it won’t budge.”

Fox rolled up an extra bedroll he had packed for the trip and moved closer to his friend.  “Here – at least try to elevate the thing – it might help.”

Joe accepted the help and sighed as he watched Fox trying to make him more comfortable.  He hated the fact that he had grown so use to pushing offers for help away during the last few months, mainly because he felt an inner pressure to heal himself.  Joe had a real aversion to showing weakness, and as each new day brought further insurmountable pain, it was getting harder to hide how he was feeling.

“Thanks,” Joe nodded and settled back once more against the leather cushion of his saddle.

“I know YOU know that I talked to your Pa before we left — so I won’t try to pretend that I’m not concerned about your leg anymore.  We’ve had a good time — great in fact – but perhaps we should start making our way back to the Ponderosa?”

“Yeah – I figured that my father would get to you — I also figured that was why he caved in and let me come on this trip.  But, the fact is that I want to stay away – even if it’s just for a couple more days.  Besides, I thought you mentioned some kind of mineral springs that your mother’s people use for various ailments right around Genoa?  I thought we would at least try that – not that I give it any hope at healing me – but hey – I’ve tried about everything else!”

“I don’t think that would be such a good idea right now, Joe,” Fox replied, and his eyes gave away the notion that he was keeping some information from his friend.

Joe caught the glimmer of doubt in Fox’s eyes and read it for what it was.  “What now?  I know that there’s something that’s changed your mind since a couple of days ago — when you were all for us going there.  Go ahead — at least give me some credit – I’m not dumb you know.”

“I mentioned it before I found out some other information – that makes me want us to steer clear of that town.”

“Huh?  Why?”

“When I stopped at that way station for those supplies two days ago – I ran into someone that I knew.”

“Was it that old trapper who you were talking to while I was loading the pack horse?”

“Yeah – Jim Raney — he just got back from Genoa.  He sold some of his furs while he was there — and well — he also had a nasty boil lanced by a doctor there in town.”

Joe stared hard at Fox and the look that passed between the two young men told the whole story.

“Hale’s there,” Joe announced angrily.  He had surmised that fact had to be the reason why his friend was pushing not to go to the mineral springs after all.  Fox evidently wanted to draw the trip as far away from Genoa as he could, even if that meant heading back to the Ponderosa a couple of days early.

Fox nodded and watched Joe’s eyebrows narrow and his mouth form a vengeful scowl.  “I know what you want to do to that man, Joe.  And – trust me on this – it’s not worth it.”

Joe tossed the remaining coffee from his cup and pulled himself to standing.  He limped painfully towards where he had set his saddlebags and unlatched the rawhide strings.  Soon he had a bottle of whiskey uncorked and chugged the amber liquid.  It had burnt his tongue and made its way down into his still churning stomach.  Knowing where he could find the evil doctor made it all that much harder not to press on and deal with the man now.

“Sit and talk – then – I know I can’t stop you from what you want to do – but at least you can hear me out!” Fox urged Joe to listen to him.  He pointed for him to return to the campfire.

“Fine!” Joe replied with mounting anger.  He made his way back over to his friend and lowered his body back down alongside the other man.  “I will sit and talk to you all night if you want me to.  But, come daylight — I’m going out after that bastard.  And, I rather doubt that anything you’ve got to say to me will make me changed my mind.”

“You want to kill Hale?  That’s it right, Joe?” Fox began.

“Kill him – well – I’m not sure about that one,” Joe paused and took another drink from his bottle of rot gut.  “I know that I want to make him suffer – and suffer big time!  Kill him?  Hum— I guess I need to mull that over tonight and then maybe I’ll know once I look into his demonic eyes again.”

“I know what vengeance tastes like — you know that I do!  It was your family that stopped me from taking the law into my own hands and killing those men who killed my folks.  But, they were right — and I had to pray – and wait – for justice.  That only came the day when I saw them hanging in the breeze with their lifeless bodies dancing in the air.”

Joe grabbed Fox’s arm and forced his gaze, “I know how bad that was – I mean – I probably will never know exactly how bad – but I did lose my Ma – so I know that kind of loss.  You handled losing both of your parents – better than anyone I’ve ever known.  But, you did see that justice was done, Fox!  You saw those evil monsters punished for what they did.  That didn’t bring your folks back – but at least it was some kind of final judgement.  I haven’t had that with Hale!”

“But you aren’t dead either,” Fox whispered.

“If I can’t do all of the things that make ME – ME then I’m half dead.  If I can’t get up in the morning without feeling the pain of what that man did to me — if I can’t sleep one night without dreaming of how Hale tortured me – then I am dead!  And to carry this pain – this infirmity with me for the rest of my life – while Hale lives a life without any form of punishment – it’s just not fair!”

“I never said it was fair — because it’s not.  And – the fact that he planned it all so well – even making a profit on the surgery that he did to save your leg –well – it’s got to eat at your insides — I know that!  I also know your dad and your brothers are going through it right along with you.  They hated that nothing could be done to that doctor for what he did to you.  Your Pa had to make one of the toughest decisions of his life – but he did it to save YOUR life.  You’d have done the same thing.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier to live with,” Joe insisted.

“When I saw the men who killed my folks hanging – and knew that they were finally dead — it was only a part of my healing.  Even today I have moments when I second guess whether I should’ve personally killed them.  But – if I had – then I would be the one dead –and that wouldn’t have been what my parents would’ve wanted.”

“And you’re telling me this — why?” Joe asked harshly.

“Because nobody who cares about you wants to see you in jail because you just had to get your revenge.  It’s not worth it.  You might heal – the doctors aren’t sure yet – and even if you don’t – killing or maiming Hale isn’t going to change what’s going on with your leg.  You know that, Joe – deep down – but you want revenge and you want it so badly that you aren’t thinking about how it will affect your family – or your friends.”

“Now you’re starting to talk like that faith healer in Virginia City!  I went to him – expecting a miracle or something – and instead I got the “heal your heart” sermon from the good preacher.  So, that’s what you’re saying, right?  Go on and live my life and forget all about the fact that Hale is able to continue doctoring – and with a much bigger bank account now!”

“I just don’t want to see you ruin your life – that’s all.  Now that you know where he is I know YOU.  You will go there – and you will have your revenge —right?”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Joe laughed and eased back against his saddle, bottle still in his hand.

“Don’t try to fool me, Wild Boy!  I’ve known you most of my life, and it’s written all over your face.”

“Then – if you know me – isn’t all this conversation a waste of time?  I mean — you know that I’m going after the guy.  I would’ve done it before now – but I never thought he would have stayed around these parts.  Maybe Pa knew all of this and kept it from me?”

Fox muttered a few words, which were unintelligible, and stood.  He stared down at his friend, who was well on his way to getting drunk.  Fox knew Joe was trying to mask the shock of finding out that the evil doctor Hale was within miles from their camp, and was plotting his next move.  Fox knew that he needed to think fast in order to prevent a very disastrous outcome.  He knelt down next to his saddlebags and reached inside.  Pulling out a leather pouch, Fox thought on whether it was wise to go ahead with what his heart told him he needed to do at the time.  His mother’s grandfather had been a high holy man with the tribe, and during Fox’s early years he had listened and learned a great deal about certain medicines and tribal secrets.  Pulling from that knowledge, Fox hoped that he would have something inside of the bag that would help Joe find his way, before making a terrible decision which might haunt him the rest of his life.  Though most of the rituals and practices of the Paiute Indians were left to be passed down only to descendants, Fox felt like he owed the Cartwright family at least one variance from the rules of his people.  If ever Joe needed some additional wisdom, it was now.

Joe was deep in thought while Fox went about choosing the method he would use in an attempt to prevent disaster.  He leaned back against his saddle and closed his eyes just long enough to allow Fox to move over to him unnoticed.  Without warning, Fox snatched the bottle of whiskey out of his friend’s hands and tossed it across the campsite.  That brought Joe out of his vengeful daze quickly, and he bolted up startled by what had happened.

“Hey!  What’d you do that for?” Joe shouted.

“Think about it, Joe,” Fox began, and knelt next to the incensed young man.  “I know you are going after Hale tomorrow – and the last thing you need to do is to go into Genoa with a dull head.  If you keep drinking that rot gut then you’re just asking for more trouble.  Believe me — you’ll have a full plate of problems if you go ahead with what you’re planning.”

“I wasn’t drunk – just getting relaxed,” Joe argued the point.

“What you need, my friend is something to make you more aware of what you’re doing — not something that may cause you to fall victim to that doctor again, or the law for that matter!”

Joe’s eyes caught sight of the leather pouch that was clutched in Fox’s hands and it made him wonder what he was getting at.  “You got something in there to help me?  Is it something that will give me superhuman powers or something?” Joe asked and bit back his laughter.

“No – but I do have something in here that’ll clear your mind in order to allow you to realize what you’re doing.  It may be what you need to accomplish what you’re after,” Fox said cryptically.

Joe watched as the part Paiute and part white man began to prepare some kind of concoction using an empty tin cup.  It was enough to garner his attention and soon he was huddled there next to Fox trying to get a better view of all that was being mixed together.

“You think I’m going to drink that hideous smelling stuff?” Joe asked, as Fox stirred and carefully added, bit by bit, different items into the cup.

Fox laughed and nodded, but offered no further explanation as to what was going into the secret elixir.  He had to draw from past memories of his mother’s people exactly how much to use in order to provide the needed effect and yet not poison his friend.  Some of the plants which were in powder form could cause severe side-effects if used in large proportions, and Fox didn’t want to be the cause of Joe’s demise while trying to help him.  In addition to some Datura, he added other native plants and herbs and finally a small amount of powdered buffalo horn.  Finally, he poured just enough water from the canteen into the cup to allow the thick mixture to be swallowed.  The outcome of the whole project produced a syrup that was potent in content and in aroma.  Satisfied with his preparations, Fox turned on his heels, still kneeling close to the campfire, and handed the cup to Joe.

“I bet you’re just going to give me something to knock me out and then haul my butt back home, right?” Joe questioned suspicious as to what Fox’s true intentions were.

“I would never do that to you – I am your blood brother –or have you forgotten?”

Joe had to grin, remembering pestering Fox to perform the ceremony of cutting fingers to merge their blood when they were younger.  Hoss had already sworn to be Fox’s blood brother for life, and when the then much younger Joe had learned that had happened, he had nagged both Hoss and Fox to include him in on the deal.  Though the very small pierce to Joe’s index finger wasn’t really the ritual that Hoss and Fox had earlier participated in, they made the young boy think that it was the real deal throughout the years.  In all actuality, Fox and Hoss had cut their two right wrists and merged them together in a ceremony which was much truer to the Paiute tradition.  Fox wasn’t about to disclose the real truth, even though Joe was no longer a youngster.

“So — this isn’t to drug me mindless and haul me back home?” Joe reiterated.

“On the contrary, this will open your mind, your senses, and your heart.  You will know exactly what you need to do after you drink this.”

“I take it — that you think this will stop me from going to Genoa and killing Hale, huh?”

“No – your true heart is only known to you and your God.  This will just open you up to all of the possibilities, so that your decision will be your own.  No matter what you choose, Wild Boy, as your friend — I will stand by it.  Now — drink – and then lay back down.  Soon you will have your answers,” Fox replied and pushed the cup back towards Joe.

Joe drew in a long breath and stared up at his friend.  The glow in Fox’s eyes proved to his friend that he was telling the truth of the matter.  Deciding to appease the man, but doubting that there was anything, other than a good one on one with Steven Hale that could help him, Joe held the cup in his hand and readied to drink the potion.  Then, with just a bit of apprehension written on his face, Joe downed the contents of the cup.

Fox nodded, thanking Joe in his own way for trusting his judgement.  “Now you best lay down — soon you’ll have a little dizziness then the knowledge will come to you.  Relax and breathe calmly,” Joe’s friend instructed, and helped to settle him back against his saddle.

Within a few minutes Joe was finding it difficult to keep his eyes opened.  Slowly his breathing became less labored and he fell off to sleep.  Fox kept a close vigil, sitting with his legs crossed right next to Joe’s bedroll.

“Sleep, my brother — sleep well.  You are now on the wings of the spirits.  Let them be your guides and they will help you to decide whether the cost of your revenge is too high.  May the Great Spirit keep his hands on you during your journey,” Fox whispered softly, and watched his friend’s body lapse into the netherworld.

********************************

Strange sounds whispered in Joe’s ears and he awoke with a sudden start and an overwhelming feeling of fear.  Sitting up and trying to catch his breath, he looked over towards his slumbering friend.  The sounds were growing louder and Joe stood and sought out the source of the noise.  It apparently was not the normal whistling of the wind through the pines or the rumbling of a coming storm.  The sound was more like people talking in foreign tongues, and conversing so rapidly, and so far off, that it wasn’t discernable.  Walking towards the slowly dying campfire, Joe’s mind flooded with thoughts he didn’t know he was capable of having.  Feeling totally consumed with the most potent and extreme feelings of passion, hate, love and fear, Joe let them take control of his soul.  Each emotion pulsated through his confused brain at a rapid and heart-stopping rate.  Joe couldn’t hold onto one single thought for a second without another feeling emerging from his inner self, taking control of his mind.  As the emotions of love and fear dwindled, hate and passion grew, and remained strong and invincible.  He wondered if it was the latent effects of whatever Fox had made him drink that night, or whether a nightmare had caused him to feel so ill at ease.  Through blurred vision Joe stared down at his friend.  Fox had been the one who had told him that the concoction he had consumed would give him the answer to his problem.  In that respect, the man had been correct.  An ominous burning sensation crept from Joe’s leg and proceeded upwards towards his chest, finally latching on to it.  It was as if a hand was squeezing his rapidly beating heart, and for a brief moment, Joe thought that he might die, it was just that fierce.  The odd sensation caused him to fall to his knees and gasp for air.  Fox continued to just lay there totally unaware of what had happened to his friend.

“Fox — Fox — wake up,” Joe stammered, still trying to suck in some air to ward off the increasing pain in his chest.  His call went unanswered.  Fox continued to slumber on, as if he hadn’t heard the desperate plea for help.

**** This is some answer! **** Joe thought to himself.  **** Fox didn’t want me to go kill Hale so he gave me something to kill myself! **** He wondered, still staring towards the sleeping man.

From out of the cloudless night’ sky there was a bolt of lightning which struck the ground right in front of Joe’s slumped body.  It had hit so close to him that the hairs on Joe’s arms and on the nape of his neck stood straight up.  The potent smell of electricity charged air and sulfur filtered in through the young man’s nostrils and filled him with an energy that he had never known before.  Joe pulled himself up from the ground, as the pain in his chest disappeared, and in its place was an overpowering feeling of strength of mind and body.  He walked over to Fox and tried to awaken him.  Joe couldn’t believe that the intense lightning bolt hadn’t roused his friend from his sleep.  No matter how many times that he shook Fox’s arm, he wouldn’t open his eyes.  Joe felt for a pulse, and found it to be there.  He ceased his attempts to bring his friend around.  A small voice inside his mind told Joe that his journey was best taken alone.

“Thank you my friend, I do have all of the answers now.  This is something I need to do by myself.  Sleep well,” Joe whispered and turned to gather his belongings.

*********************************

The small mining town of Genoa stood almost entirely shrouded in darkness.  Silhouetted only by the departing full moon, Joe rode quietly down the dusty main street.  It was still in the wee hours of the morning, and unlike Virginia City to the north, no saloons remained open.  Not a soul could be found anywhere, or even a horse left un-stabled.  There were only a few incandescent lights left flickering on a couple of lamp posts as Joe journeyed onward, peering at the signs to direct him to his target.  Finally, there on the outskirts of town, he spied the wooden sign which proclaimed, Steven Hale, M.D.  Joe silently dismounted and eased the reins of his horse around the hitching post just in front of the office.  Something instinctual quieted his pounding heart, and Joe didn’t even hesitate for an instant as his boot-steps sounded his ascent up the couple of steps and onto the porch.  There was no fear in his movements, only the feeling of intense satisfaction.  The thrill of the hunt was intoxicating and Joe smiled at the thought of it all.  Joe couldn’t wait to turn the tables on his old nemesis, and to have the doctor’s life in his hands at long last.  Memories, still just as fresh as the day that he had last seen the evil man, flooded his brain with the reminder of all that the man had done to him.  Now came the long awaited confrontation and the young man wished that he could do the same type of horrendous damage to the doctor as Hale had done to him months earlier.  Revenge had dug into his mind and lodged there causing all of the lectures that Pa had given him to disappear.  No longer were there doubts or fears of any reprisals.  No longer did he hear the voice of his father, or even the local parson in his head.  Days, weeks and months of dreaming about the time when he could go after Steven Hale, had broken any moralistic rule that Joe had known.  The coming event would be done without any legal jurisdiction or ruling of an outside party.  Joe would use the laws according to nature alone, there would be no holds barred.  The human being standing there on the porch had been changed into a primitive animal, one that had been bitten, and was now reeling back ready to strike its teeth into the warm pulsating neck of its attacker.  With a slight grin which was rapidly growing into a broad smile, Joe turned the doorknob and snickered to himself when he realized that the doctor hadn’t locked up before going to bed.  Easing the door inward he stepped into the dark foyer.  It was time, and Joe hoped that it would fill the need for blood and that it would also extinguish his pain.

Reaching into the inner pocket of his green corduroy jacket, Joe pulled out a match and struck the end on the back of his leather holster.  He stealthily made his way down the small hallway which led from the outer office and into the examination room.  Joe’s left hand fell down to his Colt revolver and he untethered the rawhide band.  He proceeded further into the main quarters where he was sure that he’d find his quarry.  Gun drawn and its hammer pulled back, readying for his appearance, Joe entered the bedroom of Steven Hale.  With the match held in his right hand dying fast, the young man was happy to see that the doctor hadn’t blown out his kerosene lamp before falling to sleep.  There before his very eyes was the man who had pushed Joe into the bowels of Hell by his tortuous treatment.  Hale’s spectacles had fallen to the base of his nose, and a book lay open upon his chest.  Joe shook his head in wonderment.  Obviously there was no guilty conscience on Hale’s part, as he was snoozing away totally unaware of the clear and present danger.”

“Time to wake up, Doctor Hale,” Joe announced sinisterly, standing right next to the other man’s bed.

Hale wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, and only turned his head into the pillow to cease the noise.  It took the feel of Joe’s tight grip on his upper arm to bring the doctor back to the real world.  He sprang up in his bed and made a sudden move to his night stand.

“Wouldn’t try for it,” Joe warned and pointed the gun barrel towards the doctor’s forehead.

Hale ceased his attempts at getting to his loaded pistol and he sank back against the pillows.  He adjusted his glasses and stared up at the face of death.

“Cartwright?  Joe Cartwright?” Hale asked with a notable quiver to his voice.

“So nice that you remember me, Doc.  I thought I’d have some trouble getting to you, but I guess you just leave this place unlocked because you have such a clear conscience, huh?”

“Now just a minute there, Boy, I had a deal with your father!” Hale insisted.

Joe laughed, an unfamiliar kind for the normally happy- go- lucky young man.  The laughter came from the lark that the whole paying off of Steven Hale had been.  “That’s right you and my Pa had an agreement all right.  But – do you see him here?” Joe asked and waved his gun around the room, finally ending up pointing the weapon directly between Hale’s eyes.

“All I have to do is holler and half of the town will be here!”

“You make one loud sound out of that filthy mouth of yours and I will put a slug into it.  Trust me.”

“W –What do you want?” Hale called out fearing for his life.

“I want you to pay for what you did to me.  I thought you’d have figured that out by now.  You ARE an educated doctor and all,” Joe sang out tersely.

“I haven’t got any of the five thousand dollars that your old man gave me left.  Spent it all — that’s why I had to go back into medical practice.  The most I have is a hundred dollars –,” Hale explained but was cut off in mid-sentence.

“Oh — let me clarify the words “pay for what you did to me” to you,” Joe smiled and pulled a chair over next to the bed.  He never let his guard down, or his gun for that matter, as he scooted closer to his prey.  “When I said “pay” I meant that you need to pay for hurting me like you did.  You know – the old scalpel in the leg routine and all?  And how about the way that you re-broke my leg even though it didn’t need it?”

“I – I — I fixed you — I got all of that infection out just like I promised your pa.  That leg should be fine now.”

“Yeah – well it ain’t – and for that matter neither is my head,” Joe answered and stared piercingly at the man on the bed.

“I didn’t do anything to your head!”

“You tied me down – kept me as a prisoner – and operated on me without any sedation.  Really, Doc, you should have studied the effects of that kind of medical practice before you did it.  It can make a man go plum out of his mind.”

“You don’t want to do anything rash, young man,” Hale tried to control his voice and stall his way out of some serious harm.

“Oh I assure you that it won’t be rash.  No – on the contrary I’ve had months and months to think this out, Doc.  And if I get side-tracked about it — well this leg of mine reminds me every time I stand and try to walk.”

“I told you that I fixed it as best as I could,” Hale insisted.

“It wouldn’t have needed to be fixed if you hadn’t tortured me.  Now — let’s just end this chit chat,” Joe paused and stood up pushing back the chair as he did.  “Let’s go!”

“Go where?  I’m not dressed — let me change and —,” Hale stalled once more.

“You don’t need to be dressed for what I’ve got planned.  Now move into your examination room or I can just end this with one shot to your heart,” Joe warned.

Hale reluctantly stood from his bed, dressed only in his nightshirt.  Joe pushed the middle aged man towards the hallway, taking the time to grab the lamp in his right hand first.  The barrel of Joe’s Colt placed firmly between the doctor’s shoulder blades instructed him to turn into the examination room.

“Up on the table,” Joe directed coldly.

Hale climbed up on the table, wondering what the young man had in store for him.  He was beginning to think that he was dealing with someone who had gone insane.  The doctor nervously peered around the room, hoping to find something he could use to fend off whatever Joe had planned for him.  Joe, in the meantime, set the lamp down and searched for Hale’s black medical bag.  He finally found it, just underneath one of the counters in the room.

“Ah ha!” Joe sang out smiling.  “I remember this – still got your initials all over it – so quaint.  Never thought it would be used against you, did you?”

“Listen – whatever you are thinking of don’t do it.  I got off without the law taking me to task but you won’t.  If you harm me you will be prosecuted!” Hale argued.

“Now why would I hurt you?” Joe sighed and dug through the medical bag.  He caught onto something very familiar, four leather straps.  “Well, these aren’t the original ones — I chewed through those in Sand Dust.  But, I guess they’ll do.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Shut the hell up!” Joe shouted, his anger reaching its zenith.   “Here – take these two and tie your ankles down to those posts at the end of the table.”

“I won’t do it!”

Joe pointed the gun closer to Hale’s head and his voice grew more menacing.  “I won’t be asking you again.”

Hale bent forward and tied his ankles to the end posts as he had been instructed.  Joe checked to make sure that they were good and tight and then smiled.

“Very good – now put your right hand up to the top post.  We don’t need you moving at the wrong time – just like you told me, Doc.  We don’t want anything to happen that will stop you from healing properly.

Hale was forced to lie back on the examination table and felt Joe strapping his right hand down to the post above his head.  Joe then tied the final strap, and checked once again to make sure that all four restraints were very tight.

“Now see?  Everything is going as planned – you are such a good patient,” Joe grinned and holstered his gun.  He patted the doctor’s sweating forehead and then calmly walked around the room gathering things.

“You’re out of your mind, Cartwright.  You know that don’t you?”

“Is that your PROFESSIONAL opinion, Doc?” Joe laughed.

“Killing me isn’t going to take away that limp that you’ve got.  I bet I could help you — if you’d let me — I could –,” Hale was cut off again.

“You could what?  You could re-break my leg – is that it?  Or – better yet,” Joe paused and drew out a scalpel from the medical bag and held it within inches of the other man’s throat.  “You could insert this scalpel back into my leg.  You think that’ll fix me this time?”

“Let me go – please – I’ll give you anything that you ask – just let me go.”

“Now Doctor Hale – is that panic I see on your face?  We can’t have that you know.  No it will interfere with your healing.  Now don’t you worry none – I ain’t going to kill you.  I mean as they say – and eye for an eye – you ruined my leg – so I’ll do the same to you.  Then we will be even – right?”

“Please — please don’t do it!”

“Hey – wait – that won’t make us even after all.  I mean — you broke my leg, you operated on it and put that thing inside of it – then you got five thousand dollars of my father’s money.  Nope – even if I do that to you – I’m still out five thousand dollars.”

“Yes – yes you’re right.  Let me go to the bank in the morning – I can get a loan and I’ll pay you back all that I got from your old man.”

Joe laughed and patted the doctor’s forehead with the scalpel.  It was just light enough not to draw blood, but hard enough to let the man know that he was going to do something dastardly to him very soon.  “I don’t give a damn about your money.  This is going to fulfill any amount of monetary gain you got from torturing me!  I want to hear you scream.  I want to hear your bones breaking and stand here and laugh at your tears.  Then, perhaps, I will be okay again.  Right now, I gotta tell you, Doc, my head’s a bit messed up, you know?  Sometimes I think I am totally insane —then I think of what I’m going to do to you and I say to myself, Joe you aren’t crazy you are justified.”

Hale started to scream, but Joe was well prepared for the onslaught of his shouts for help.  He stuffed a wad of balled up cotton into the man’s mouth, when Hale uttered his first sound.

“Now – you wouldn’t want to wake the whole town.  We can’t have that.  This is you and me – man to man – doctor to doctor so to speak,” Joe whispered and then went about the room preparing for his operation.

Doctor Hale perspired heavily as he watched every move that his captor made.  He saw Joe going after the wooden mallet, and was starting to comprehend what was in store for him.  Hale also wondered if the young man would carve into his leg, as payback for what had been done to Joe.  The thought of a scalpel being embedded inside his leg terrified the evil man.

“What’s the matter, Doc?  Things a little bit different on that side of the table?” Joe laughed as he moved in closer.  “Yes sir, this ought to be something — I mean to hear your own bones breaking this time can’t be near as melodic as hearing mine break, huh?  And what about this scalpel — you think it’s going to be sharp enough when I begin to carve into that leg of yours?” Joe asked as he ran the edge of the blade down the man’s right leg, pulling off hair but no skin yet.

The doctor thrashed about on the table as much as he could, being bound so tightly.  Joe set the scalpel aside and looked down into Hale’s pleading eyes.

“Been there, Doc, sorry I can’t help you.  As I recall it hurts the most when the incision begins – you will probably pass out before I get to the broken bone.  That reminds me!  I need to break that leg of yours before I go and perform surgery.  See that?  I am not the prominent doctor that you are – I keep forgetting proper procedure.  Now – you are right handed – I am left – so you broke my left leg –so you get your right leg broken.  Does that sound fair?”

The doctor nervously shook his head back and forth.

“Good – glad that you agree!  Now time’s a wasting.  I’d better get to this before sunrise and people start to mill around out there.  If I were you I’d just try to suck in a big breath – of course that’s hard to do with a mouth full of cotton.  Yeah – I damn near choked when you stuffed my mouth shut with that stuff.  But – I’m sure that you’ll do just fine.  Now here we go!” Joe smiled with satisfaction as he headed towards the end of the examination table and grabbed the wooden mallet in his left hand.  He stared at the other man’s exposed legs and tucked Hale’s nightshirt under him to move it just high enough to make the break underneath his right knee.

“I think the name for this bone is the fibular – I think that’s what I heard when I was in the hospital.  But, at that time I was hurting bad — so I might be wrong.  Hey – guess I should’ve gone into the medical field before doing my first breaking of a bone – you think?  Naw – I can see this bone just fine.  It will hurt for a minute so don’t choke on that cotton.  Now on the count of three, shall we count?  Yeah — let’s count – it’ll make it more fun.  Okay – here’s one – here’s two,” Joe paused again so he could witness the fear being displayed on his victim’s face.  “Three!”

Joe’s strength had grown with his need for vengeance, and when he came down with the wooden mallet onto Hale’s right leg, the sound of loud cracking was heard throughout the room.  He watched as the other man’s back arched in horrendous pain, and Joe recalled that he had done the same thing when Hale had broken his leg.

“Damn — that HAD to hurt!” Joe laughed, but, as he began to move towards the top of the examination table, he felt something jabbing at his spine.  Slowly spinning around, he saw a man holding a double barreled shotgun and it was pointed directly at him.  On closer inspection Joe also noticed that the man holding the gun wore a vest that had a sheriff’s badge pinned on it.

“Make another move towards the Doc and I’ll fill you full of lead!” The sheriff warned.

Joe dropped the mallet from his hand and it sounded with a dull thud onto the floor.

“Now step back – and don’t try anything,” the sheriff paused and pulled Joe’s Colt out of his holster.  “I’m going to check on the Doc and then I’m going to haul your sorry butt to jail.”

Joe did as he was instructed and leaned up against the wall.  He watched as the sheriff carefully untied the restraints that had held Hale to the table.

“Doc?  Doc – talk to me – you okay?” the sheriff asked, but got no response.

“Oh – I stuffed cotton in his mouth,” Joe muttered, with little emotion to his voice.  He was irritated that the lawman had come in when he had and broke up all of the enjoyment he was deriving from his form of payback.

The sheriff opened the doctor’s mouth and pulled out the cotton wadding and tried to bring him around with a few light slaps to his face.  There was still no response coming from the injured man on the table.

“He probably just fainted.  See – that man there isn’t used to being on that end of the torture — he’s the one who does it,” Joe commented as he watched the sheriff’s face turn from a worried expression into panic.

“This man hasn’t passed out,” the sheriff paused and pointed his rifle at Joe.  “This man is dead!”

“Huh?  I only broke his leg – I didn’t kill him!” Joe insisted and moved towards the table.

“I said stay back!” the sheriff shouted.  He then laid his ear to the doctor’s chest and then felt the pulse in his left wrist and got nothing.  “You might have busted his leg – but you also killed him!  This man must’ve had a heart attack – and no wonder after what you did to him!”

“He got what he deserved – he did the same thing to me – only worse!” Joe protested vehemently.

“Turn around so’s I can cuff you, Boy.  You can tell your story in court.”

Joe took one last long look at the body of a very dead Steven Hale, and had a mixture of emotions going through his mind as the sheriff went about handcuffing his two wrists.   Part of him was happy, or in all actuality, damned happy, that the evil man was dead.  But, Joe was a little worried as to what would happen to him next.  He had delivered the coup de grace, so to speak, but there was no malice aforethought.  Well, Joe reasoned there was some malice involved, but he only wanted to scare the man and break his leg.  He hadn’t planned on causing the doctor’s death.  As he was hauled out of Hale’s office and herded down the street by the sheriff, Joe’s thoughts turned to his family and what they would think about what he had done.

**********************************

Joe nervously paced his jail cell, wondering when his father would be making an appearance.  The wire had been sent by Sheriff John Rogers, at his prisoner’s request, after Joe had been relieved of all of his possessions and locked up securely.  The telegram would be received in Virginia City by Sheriff Roy Coffee and he would then send a messenger out to the Ponderosa to inform Ben Cartwright that his youngest son had been arrested in Genoa.  Joe dreaded how the news would go over with his father.  He still couldn’t believe it himself, the fact that Steven Hale’s heart had played out after having his leg broken.  Joe shook his head and mused to himself how he must have the worst luck of anyone on the face of the earth.  He wanted to hurt the evil man, that was undeniable, but he hadn’t really intended on killing him.

The town of Genoa was still growing and hadn’t yet built its courthouse.  Joe had been informed by Sheriff Rogers that the trial would be set for the beginning of the week and that it would be held in the small town hall building.  The fact that it wasn’t in the same county as Virginia City didn’t help any, as there would be no way that the Cartwrights could ask for a change of venue, even though Joe knew that his father would try his best to call in favors with politicians in Carson City.  The prosecutor was relatively new to the area and had no knowledge of the prominent Cartwright family of the Ponderosa.  It was remarkably ill fated that Joe’s one go-round as a criminal had been perpetrated away from his hometown.  If ever he needed some bias in his favor it was once he was booked on premeditated murder.   The sheriff and prosecutor made a point of telling the young man that it was a hanging offense.  Joe protested that he hadn’t intended for Hale to die, rather, he only wanted retribution for all that the evil doctor had inflicted on him.  Their response to Joe’s rationalization was that there had been no criminal charges filed against Steven Hale, and that even if there had been, that the young man shouldn’t have taken the law into his own hands.

From the back cell of the jail in Genoa, and even behind the closed wooden doors that separated the front room from the prisoner’s quarters, Joe could hear the loud protesting voice of his Pa.  Ben’s deep baritone voice was being challenged by two other men, whom Joe recognized as the prosecutor, Gaines Phelps, and Sheriff John Rogers.  After a long banter between all parties the voices suddenly seemed to lower in volume and within a few minutes the doors opened and Ben Cartwright walked towards the jail cell.  Joe stood staring over at his father, afraid to speak.  He could see the worry etched on the man’s face and also read the anger in his eyes.  Finally, legs spread apart in a paternal stance that Joe had seen so many times in his life and his hands on his hips, Ben broke the silence.

“Well?” Ben asked, trying to contain his anger, hurt and tremendous fear.

“I’m sorry, Pa,” Joe responded, and hung his head in shame.  He didn’t think that he could bear to see the disappointment on his father’s face once he addressed what happened to Steven Hale.

“You’re sorry?” Ben whispered, with disbelief in his words.

“Yes, Sir – I’m sorry – sorry you had to come here – sorry that this happened — just sorry,” Joe answered, fighting back his tears.

Ben moved closer to his son and grabbed his wrists, pulling him even closer to the jail cell bars.  “Joseph – do you have any idea what they’re charging you with?”

“Premeditated murder,” Joe replied in a whisper staring away from his Pa’s eyes.

“Look at me!” Ben commanded.

Joe obliged, he knew better than to refuse the demand.  He had a whole town against him now and he sure didn’t need his father to turn around and walk away.  The truth being told, Joe would have understood it if Pa had done that very thing.  He knew how much of Pa’s life had been spent trying to drum morality into the heads of his three sons.  By going against everything that his father believed, Joe had shown the man that he hadn’t learned a thing over the many years of lectures.  His heart lodged securely in his throat and still fighting back tears, Joe stared up into the solemn brown eyes of his father.

“You didn’t really kill Hale – did you, Joseph?”

“Well — I broke his leg — but I didn’t go out to kill him,” Joe explained.

“The sheriff informed me of all the details from his perspective.  He said he found your pinto outside of Hale’s office when he was just getting up that morning.  Since he hadn’t seen that horse around town before then, he went to check the situation out.  That’s when he said that he walked into the doctor’s office and found you standing there – with a wooden mallet in your hand.  He also told me that Hale was tied down to the examination table and his mouth was stuffed with cotton to prevent him from screaming.  Tell me anything I’ve said so far that isn’t true!”

“It’s all true, Pa.  I tied him up – I used that mallet to bust his leg.  But, I wasn’t going to finish him off.  I just wanted —,” Joe was cut off from his explanation by his father.

“I KNOW what you wanted, Joseph!  Don’t you think that I’ve wanted to kill that man ever since he hurt my son?  Do you think I couldn’t have found out where he was and gone after him?  But, I didn’t — I didn’t because revenge wasn’t up to me — it was up to God!”

“You weren’t the one who he maimed!” Joe fired back, with a sudden outburst of temper that propelled out of his troubled mind.

Ben reached up and grabbed his son under his chin and looked directly into Joe’s eyes and said emphatically, “I am your father — when you are hurt – do you honestly believe that I don’t feel it?  Are you that blind after all of these years?”

“I’m sorry – but you made an agreement with him – even though you did it to try to save my life – still you made that agreement.  I wasn’t done with him — and I didn’t want you to get involved.”

“Not involved?” Ben asked ironically.  “Then what do you think that I am now?  How in the name of God do you think that I’m going to get you out of this?”

“Maybe you’re not!” Joe shouted and broke away from his father’s hold.  “I’m sorry that I had them wire you.”

“You’re sorry you hurt Hale – you’re sorry that you wired me – anything else that you’re sorry about, Joseph?”

Joe spun around after hearing what his father said and answered, “I never said that I was sorry about hurting Hale.  I’m glad that I hurt him!  I’m glad that – for even just those few minutes of his twisted and sadistic life that he got to experience some of what he did to me months ago!  I’m sorry I got caught — I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you — I’m sorry that no-one will be able to get me out of these charges.  But — no, Pa — I’m not sorry that I hurt Steven Hale.”

Ben stared at his son and wondered who he was looking at.  His Joseph couldn’t possibly be that cold and inhuman.  His youngest never would have gone through with tying someone up, even someone as evil as Steven Hale, and then gone ahead and broken his leg for the purpose of revenge.  What had happened to the little boy with the heart of gold, who might be prone to a few temper tantrums, but would give his life to assist someone in trouble?  What had he grown in to?  Ben’s thoughts pounded in his head, giving the rise to his anxiety over what would happen at the trial if anyone were to see the person behind the cell bars now?  Had living with what Hale did to him done something to Joe’s mind?  Ben was starting to feel guilty for not having realized how damaged his son’s psyche must have been after being tortured to the extent that he had been.  He was starting to believe that if he had seen the warning signs earlier, that he might have been able to protect his child.  Ben’s feelings ran the gamut between anger, confusion, and finally stopped on love.  The young man was still his son, and as Joe slowly moved over to the cot and sat down resting his head in his hands, Ben’s heart bled for him.

“I’ll do everything that I can,” Ben whispered, and pushed away a few fallen tears from off his face.

“I know there’s not much that you can do, Pa.  I just wanted you here — I guess it was selfish of me – I didn’t want to be alone,” Joe replied never looking up to see the tears that were coursing down his father’s cheeks.

Ben drew in a deep breath and decided he needed to get back to the business of trying to save his son’s life.  He tried his best to regain control of his voice as he was preparing to leave.

“I’ve got some wires to get off, Joseph.  I want to get in touch with the territorial governor and send someone to catch up with your brothers.  I’ll be back in a little while.  We’ll talk more then.”

“Pa?” Joe called out, with panic in his voice this time.

Ben spun around and faced his son once more.  Joe had returned to the steel bars and was reaching his hands out to him.  Ben moved in closer and pushed back the curls which had fallen down onto his son’s forehead.  The affectionate touch of his father’s hand was a reminder of a better time in their lives, when Pa really could fix all of Joe’s problems.  Joe felt Ben’s arms slip through the cell bars and fold around his shoulders pulling him close and holding onto him as tight as he could with the barrier in between them both.  He wished that his Pa would never let go.

“I’ll be back shortly,” Pa whispered and reluctantly pulled away from his boy.  He turned and left the room before the tears began to fall again.

*********************************

The arrest of Joseph Cartwright, on a murder charge, spread throughout the western territory like a wildfire.  The Cartwright family had always made front page copy, mostly due to their long standing reputation as upright and law abiding men of great wealth.  From the Territorial Enterprise all the way to the San Francisco Reporter, people were writing and talking about the upcoming murder trial.  Ben had called in every favor imaginable.  His wire to the territorial governor, though it didn’t get the trial moved as was hoped for, did provide the defense with an additional two weeks to prepare their case and launch an all- out effort to save Joe’s life.  Those extra days also provided the needed time for Hoss and Adam Cartwright to leave the cattle drive and arrive in Genoa a few days prior to the trial.  They holed up in the same local hotel where Ben had made his campaign headquarters.  He had insisted that the family attorney, Benton Hill, try for some kind of a deal with the prosecutor.  Unfortunately, Mister Phelps wanted to make a name for himself by successfully seeing the trial through, and convicting Joseph Cartwright for both aggravated and premeditated murder.  He refused every deal that was offered as a plea to a lesser charge.  Mister Phelps was so sure that he had a winning case that he knew it would lead to a more prominent career somewhere away from the small town of Genoa.  If the attorney was anything, he was determined, and went for the jugular when it came to dealing with criminals.  It was of his opinion that Joe Cartwright was nothing more than a rich man’s son who had gone on a vendetta and expected to get off scot-free by using the family’s political and financial powers.  There would be no bargain for the Cartwrights as far as Gaines Phelps was concerned and he would not settle for anything less than seeing the young man hanging in the town’s square after the trial.

Defense attorney Benton Hill was seasoned in his skill, but, even though he had the prosecutor beaten as far as years spent in the legal profession, unfortunately he was fighting a losing battle.  Benton arranged for many character witnesses to take the stand, all who would testify as to Joe Cartwright’s normal behavior pattern, as opposed to how he had been on the morning that he had his go-round with Steven Hale.  Doctor Paul Martin would be verifying the condition in which he had found the young man to be in once Joe had returned from weeks of torture at the hands of Hale.  He would also vouch for the fact that there had been a scalpel embedded in Joe’s leg that belonged to the evil doctor.  Ben even thought to bring in the sheriff of Sand Dust for the trial, Samuel Hazelton, as proof as to the way that they had found Joe tied down inside the doctor’s office days after Steven Hale had left for parts unknown.  Sheriff Hazelton would testify to all the facts that he had personally witnessed, along with the livery stable owner, Jake Wilson.  The defense would also tell the tale of how Steven Hale had left Virginia City years prior and had assumed the name of the deceased doctor Hosea Simpson.  One by one the participants arrived in Genoa, and one by one they were coached as to their upcoming testimony by Benton.  Ben and his two older sons would sit for hours listening to the proceedings, and throw in a suggestion or two as they tried in vain to make some sense out of what Joe had done.  The Cartwrights had wired their old friend, and noted chief of staff, Doctor Harold Peele, in San Francisco, for information about the results of long term torture and its effects on the human psyche.  They hoped there would be something that someone would come up with that might get Joe off with a sentence in prison, based on his mental state at the time of Hale’s death.  Even life spent behind bars was starting to sound good to the family, instead of the only other option which was death by hanging.

Joe was in his own personal Hell already.  He spent numerous sleepless nights awaiting his trial.  Though his brothers and all other visitors had apparently been warned by Pa to keep a cheerful outlook for his son’s sake, Joe read right through their attempts at sounding upbeat.  He knew that there was little that could be done to keep him from the gallows.  Joe sat every day cursing his actions, as they had taken their toll on his family, and especially on his father.  Pa looked as though he had aged twenty years during the long stay in Genoa.  Joe could detect red eyes on all who came to keep him company, and knew that more than a few tears had been shed due to the knowledge that the trial would not go well.  He also worried about his father’s health.  Pa would rub at his left arm every now and then, and when Joe would ask him about it, he would just say that he had slept wrong and it was just a matter of the arm being stiff.  When he had the chance to talk one on one with Doctor Martin, Joe asked him to look after his father.  He didn’t want anything to happen to him, especially if the trial went as expected, and it ended with a death sentence.  Paul assured the worried young man that Ben was just tired, as were all the family and friends who cared about what was happening to one of their favorite people.  He did promise Joe that, in the event of a murder conviction, he would be sure to keep a careful eye out for Ben and also Joe’s brothers.  Paul had also told him that he would continue to pray for a more positive outcome.  Though Joe knew that the doctor meant what he had said, he could read his face well and knew that the man really didn’t believe that an acquittal would be in his future.  He did thank the doctor, as always, for taking care of the Cartwright family in times of dire need, and told him that he appreciated all that he had personally done for him over the years.  Paul had left the jail cell that day reduced to tears.  And, if the stoic Doctor James Paul Martin could be reduced to tears, then it was only natural that all other visitors yielded the same demeanor.  It was as though all friends and family members were each in their own way saying a final goodbye to Joe.  He understood, and tried to make each visit go as light hearted as possible for their sakes.  Joe knew and had come to terms with the fact that he had caused the whole event due to his thirst for revenge.  He still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he might soon be swinging from a rope, but he knew that it was a strong possibility.

**********************************

The night before the trial, Joe’s two brothers came in with supper which had been prepared by the loving hands of Hop Sing.  The cook and caretaker would have brought it to the jail himself but he had been in a state of shock over all that had happened, and was spending the last night in prayer.  After Sheriff Rogers had inspected the basket of food and relieved both Adam and Hoss of their weapons, he let them sit with Joe in the cell.

“Old Hop Sing sure fixed you something special tonight, Little Brother!” Hoss said with all of the enthusiasm that he could muster.  The pure fact was that his heart was breaking in two over his little brother’s fate.

“That was nice of him,” Joe replied, and slowly reviewed the contents of the basket set before him.

Adam took a seat in the chair opposite the cot that Joe and Hoss were sitting on and just stared at his youngest brother.  He still couldn’t fathom Joe having killed Doctor Hale.  He knew that Joe was quick tempered, that was a given, after twenty years of watching the kid grow.  But, to cold heartedly tie the middle aged man down and break his leg, went beyond anything that Adam thought that Joe was capable of doing.  He was so mad at the young man that he couldn’t speak.  Adam wondered how the hell Hoss could sit there next to the kid and make small talk.  Didn’t he harbor any anger towards Joe?  Adam knew better deep inside.  Both he and Hoss had spoken in great length over how the kid had almost sent their father into an early grave by his antics.  They weren’t happy at all with his behavior.  But, to let Joe go into court knowing that there was ill will seemed to be cruel and unusual punishment.  Still, Adam sat there just thinking and not joining in on the conversation.

Joe’s eyes darted back and forth between his two brothers and he could sense an underlying current of anger, even if it hadn’t been spoken aloud.  He finally placed the basket aside and addressed them both.

“I know that I messed up — more than either of you ever thought that I could.  It’s pointless to tell you how sorry I am now.  There’s nothing I can do to stop what’s going to happen tomorrow.  I only want you to know –,” Joe’s voice broke, and he had to stop momentarily before going on with his speech.  Tears were leaving his eyes when he looked back up and continued.  “I want you to know that I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me — for what I’ve done to this family — to you two – and especially to our Pa.  All I can say is I’m sorry.”

Adam stood up and turned his back on the kid on the cot.  His hands gripped the steel bars so fiercely that his knuckles went white.

“Go ahead and say it, Adam.  I know you’re thinking it,” Joe called over to his brother.

“You want to hear it?  You really want to hear it, Joe?” Adam asked tersely, as he spun back around.  His eyes glowed with intensity.

“Yes, I want to hear it — I might not have another chance,” Joe nodded.

“And whose fault is that?  And what the hell makes you think that an “I’m sorry” means a damn thing now?” Adam yelled.  Weeks of pent up hostility and fear for his brother seemed to come to a head and he couldn’t stop it.

Joe stood and walked over to his oldest brother and stared him down.  “I know it means nothing!” Joe shouted.  “Just like my life’s going to mean nothing after tomorrow.  I just wanted to say it — to you both.”

Hoss, filling his role as the middle man, jumped up and met both his brothers head on.  “Listen you two – we don’t need to be saying these things – not now.”

“Not now?  Then when?” Joe replied, and there was sarcasm in his tone.  “I’m as good as dead and you both know it.  So, any beef you two have with me – might as well get it out of your system.”

“Why Joe – why?” Hoss’ voice was pleading and his blue eyes clouded with tears.

“Because I wanted to hurt that bastard for what he did to me, that’s why.  I wanted the pain to go away – if not from my leg – then from my mind,” Joe whispered, as he felt Hoss’ arm going around his shoulder.

“Did it work?” Adam asked hotly.  “Did killing Hale take away the pain?”

“Some –,” Joe paused to clear his throat and looked up at Adam.  “But it wasn’t worth what I did to you – to Hoss – or to Pa,”

“You picked a fine time to come to your senses, Joe,” Adam shot back.  Then all of a sudden he pulled Joe towards him and held onto the kid like he was doing it for the last time.  “God how I wish you had let one of us handle this for you – and not taken it on yourself,” Adam muttered and tears finally trekked down his cheeks.

“You picked a fine time to show me you love me,” Joe responded, clinging onto his oldest brother for the first time in so many years that he treasured the moment.

Hoss encased his mammoth arms around his brothers and wept along with them.  There was no need for words at that moment.  They were three, and yet they were one.  All brothers and all hurting beyond mere words could capture.

“I –I have something that I need you two to do for me,” Joe finally released his grip on Adam and stepped away from the group hug.  “I might not have the chance — after tomorrow – to ask you.”

“You tell us – we’ll do it,” Hoss nodded and returned to the cot along with Joe.

“In my bedroom – the top drawer of my bureau – I have a journal.  I’ve been keeping it for a while.  Will you give it to Pa?” Joe asked, and tried to swipe away his tears on his shirtsleeves.  The more he wiped them away the more tears replaced them.

“Sure, Joe – we’ll give it to him,” Adam nodded, and sat down in the chair once more.

“And Cochise – Hoss – will you see if you can find someone who will work her?  I mean — you know – ride her and do all of the things that I use to?”

“Cochise ain’t going nowhere.  I promise you that I’ll take care of your horse.  Adam here will ride her for you — so I don’t hurt her none.”

“Thanks.  Now – if this thing goes the way we all kind of know it will – I don’t want any of you to watch it – okay?  I mean the hanging part – you know?  Just go somewhere – maybe up to Ma’s grave and wait it out.  Then – well – I want to be buried next to her.”

With those words spoken, both older brothers were swept up in their tears.  It was now a reality, and they had stopped hiding their emotions.  It had become impossible to do, now that Joe was saying that he was sure that he was going to hang.  Joe watched, his heart aching for his brothers and wishing a million times over that it hadn’t come to that.  But, Adam had been right, no amount of saying an “I’m sorry” would stop what had happened.

“We’ll take care of everything – you know we will, Kid,” Adam finally responded to his brother’s requests.

“Please tell Pa – tell him –,” Joe paused as a shadow moved to the cell bars and he looked up to see his father standing there.  He had come through the open doorway unnoticed.

“You can tell me yourself, Joseph,” Ben whispered.

The sheriff came into the room and unlocked the door to Joe’s cell and let the gray haired man inside.  Hoss and Adam took that as their cue to leave Pa and their little brother alone for a while.

“See you tomorrow, Little Brother,” Hoss said, and stood to move towards the door.

“Yeah – get some rest, Kid,” Adam remarked and patted his brother on the shoulder before walking out of the cell with Hoss.

“Thanks – both of you – have been the best brothers that anyone could’ve asked for,” Joe called out to them as they got ready to walk away.

“Just remember that we love you – no matter what,” Hoss replied and left the room quickly.  He and Adam were starting to let tears loose again and didn’t want Joe to witness the display.

*********************************

The sheriff secured the jail cell door and walked into his office, closing the wooden doors to give Ben and Joe Cartwright some privacy.  In spite of the fact that he seemed cold and heartless from the outside, the sheriff did have his moments.  He knew that it couldn’t be easy on either father or son in the cell saying what might be their last private goodbyes.  Sheriff Rogers gave them that time.

The atmosphere in the small jail cell was thick with emotion, and it was several minutes before either Ben or his son dared to confront the situation.  They weren’t at all sure if there would be many more moments in time left for them to be alone, and both of them wanted to speak a life time of words in the short time allotted them.  It was finally Pa who broke the uncomfortable silence.  He looked down at the basket of food which Hop Sing had sent over to the jail, and noticed that it had gone untouched by his son.

“Don’t you want to try to eat a little something, Joseph?  Hop Sing will feel bad if this all goes to waste,” Ben began.

“Not exactly hungry – but tell him thanks, will you?” Joe asked and moved away from his father.  He was having trouble with his last attempts at saying goodbye to his family and saying it to Pa was going to be excruciating.

“Joe –,” Ben paused and approached his son, turning him towards him gently.  “I don’t want you to give up hope.  We don’t know how the jury will respond after hearing all of the evidence.”

Joe stared directly into the compassionate eyes of his father and tried to etch his face into his memory forever.  He had always been more than a father to him.  Pa had been both mother and father and even his best friend.  He just couldn’t grasp the words that he wanted to use to express all that was in his heart.

“Pa – I — I,” Joe stammered, and then simply put his arms around his father and pulled him to his chest.

“I understand,” Ben whispered and tenderly stroked the hair on the back of his son’s head hoping to send a sense of calm with his touch.  He had made the statement but in all honesty he really didn’t understand.  Joe had for all intents and purposes committed murder.  Even if he hadn’t planned to do so, the fact of the matter was that Steven Hale was dead now due to his son’s actions.  And, worse than that, he knew that the jury would most likely feel the same way about it.  Now it was up to him, as the boy’s father, to calm Joe and try his best to ease his mind in any way that he could.  Even false hope was hope.

“If I could go back – if I could change it all – I would, Pa.  Not for myself – not for what’s going to happen to me – but for you and for the rest of our family.  But the fact is – I can’t change a thing.  And it’s my actions that have caused the family name to be forever tarnished.  You worked your whole life to make the Cartwright name stand for integrity.  I ruined that.”

Ben forced his son’s gaze and replied, “I don’t care about that.  Neither do your brothers.  We only wanted to try to save you from this pain.  I blame myself – for not seeing how much Hale’s torture had done to you emotionally.  If I had understood that – you wouldn’t be here.  It’s all my fault.”

“No!  No, Pa – don’t even say that!  It was me – and only me – I made that decision – I went about hunting him down.  You did everything and I mean EVERYTHING – to get me to let go of my thirst for revenge.  Please – please don’t ever blame yourself.  I couldn’t bear that – this is one time that I am owning up to something being entirely my fault,” Joe pleaded.

“No, Joseph – you were sick – much sicker than we thought possible.  To us it was just a limp that you were left with after all that you had gone through.  We knew you had pain – but not to the extent that was really going on in your mind.  That pain led you to this.  It ate away at you daily and if I had realized that – then I could’ve gotten you the help that you needed.”

“I’ve heard talk – that you wanted to label me as being insane at the time that I killed Hale.  But, Pa – that’s not the truth – not really.  I understood what I was doing the whole time I was tying him up – the whole time I was breaking his leg.  I just didn’t think that the man would die.  I wasn’t sick in the head – so if that’s where Benton is going with this tomorrow – it’s not going to work.”

“We have to do everything we can to get you off from these charges – no matter what the method,” Ben argued.

“Pa?  We’ve always been honest with each other – well – at least YOU have been honest with ME.  Do you honestly believe that I will get off with anything less than a death sentence?”

“I believe that it wasn’t your fault – no matter what you said about wanting to hurt Hale.  It wasn’t premeditated murder.”

“Yeah – but the man is dead, Pa.  No-one is arguing that it wasn’t me standing over the guy with a mallet in my hand.  I know the only other option would be life in jail – or worse still – to be committed to some kind of an asylum.  Neither would be a life – and you know it.”

“I can’t help wanting that for you – I can’t bear –,” Ben paused and moved away from his son.  He sat down on the cot and rubbed at his left arm.  Pain was very evident on his face.

Joe had seen that type of pain before, and his worry over his father’s health only heightened due to the scene playing out on the cot.  He moved swiftly to his Pa’s side and sat down next to him.  Ben put his right arm around his son, draping it across his shoulder.

“Pa?  No matter what happens — I want you to keep going.  I couldn’t go to my – to my grave knowing that I had caused you to get sick.  Please – please promise me – promise me now – that you won’t grieve for me,” Joe begged his father with desperation in his plea.

Ben gently cupped his son’s face in his two hands and tears welled in his brown eyes.  “Do you think I could live without you, Joseph?  Do you think that I could go on – or would want to go on?”

“I know that you HAVE to go on – for Hoss – for Adam.  If you didn’t – well – then I would go to my grave with more remorse than I could bear.  I already know that I won’t ever see you again – not even – well – I’ve killed someone.  I know heaven is not in my future now.”

“Look at me,” Ben insisted and saw Joe’s hazel eyes stare back up towards him.  “I believe that God knew your intentions.  I also believe that He is a forgiving God.  He knows your heart, Son.  He knows what you’ve gone through ever since Hale hurt you.  I believe that he will forgive you – all you have to do is ask Him.”

“I hope so, Pa – I really do,” Joe nodded and pushed aside his tears.

Ben cleared his throat and made a tremendous effort to push aside some of the gloom and doom which had fallen over them both.  “You wanted to tell me something – didn’t you?  What was it that you were saying to your brothers?  Care to share it with me now?”

“Oh – that,” Joe paused and forced a smile.  “I just wanted them to tell you – if – well – you know – that I thought you were the best father that a kid could’ve ever had.  You never ever failed me – not in my whole life.  And – even if this is the end – I still think that I was one of the luckiest people in the world to have had a Pa like you.  I started to tell you some of these things – a few years ago.  But – I just couldn’t say them.”

“Why?”

“Well – it was just too emotional I guess.  So I started writing them down – I began a journal.”

Ben looked very surprised by his son’s revelation.  He nodded for Joe to continue.

“Well – I told them to give the thing to you — after.  It’s not like something that Adam would write – so don’t think that you’ll be seeing big words and the Shakespeare thing.  I just kind of went back to some of the moments in my life when you made me feel like I was the most important person in the world.  I know deep down that I wasn’t – and that you loved all of us equally – but still you made so many attempts to show me that I was loved—that I wanted you to know that it meant a whole lot over the years.  Even in the rough times, when I wouldn’t always act like I was listening to you – I let you know – in the journal – that I really was all along.”

Ben was choked up by the emotional confession of his youngest son, and had a hard time speaking for a while.  Finally the words came out.  “I’m glad that you told me this, Joseph.  And there were times when you made me feel the same — like I was the most important person in your life.”

“That’s easy, Pa – because you’ve always been that to me,” Joe replied sincerely.

Ben drew Joe into his arms and sat there a long while on the cot with him.  He didn’t want to raise his son’s hopes.  It would be unfair and cruel to make the boy think that there was much of a chance in court the following day.  But, Ben didn’t want Joe to go off to trial and not know how much he still was loved, regardless of anything that he’d done.

After a long time, spent with Joe’s head resting on his strong shoulder, Pa grabbed the boy’s right hand and pulled it to his chest and said, “You will always be in here, Joseph.  That will never change – and my love for you is just as strong as it was on the day that you were born — even more in fact.”

“You’re here too, Pa,” Joe responded and pulled his father’s right hand to his chest.  “I only pray that I’m forgiven by God – so I’ll see you again.”

Ben pushed back the fallen bangs and softly kissed his son’s forehead, for what might be the last time.  “Let’s just sit here – maybe it will help you fall asleep?  We don’t have to talk anymore right now.”

“I love you, Pa,” Joe whispered and wearily closed his eyes.  The day having been rent with so much emotion had at last caused his exhaustion to set in.

“I love you too, Son,” Ben replied and felt Joe’s body ease alongside of him, still resting his head on his father’s shoulder.  He prayed that Joe would be able to sleep.  The boy would need his energy to get through the next days and beyond.

Ben could not sleep, though Joe had finally passed out from all of the spent emotions.   Pa watched as his son slumbered there against him and thought back to the night that Joe had been born.  He thought on how terribly ironic life was.  Ben had stayed up all evening waiting to see the little baby with the head of curls on the night of his birth.  Now he was staying up all evening on what might be one of the final nights of the boy’s life.  His body shuddered at the thought.  How could he go on without Joseph?  Would there be a point to it?  Adam and Hoss had never been as needy of his love or affection as the boy sleeping next to him now.  That didn’t mean that he didn’t love his two eldest sons, on the contrary he was as proud of them as a father could ever be.  But, Joseph had always been different.  He had come into the world fighting for his life and now it seemed that he was doomed to go out of the world in the same manner.  Ben said numerous prayers that night, as he had so many times in the previous weeks, that God would spare his son.  But, he didn’t feel at all confident that the prayer would be answered in the way that he had asked.  Now he knew that the word “spare” might have another meaning.  God might not spare his child’s life this time, but he hoped that he would “spare” Joe an everlasting after-life of darkness.  He prayed that Joseph, having repented for what he had done, would see the gates of heaven.  Ben knew that was his only chance if Joe wasn’t acquitted, that he would ever see his boy again.  Letting his chin fall to rest on top of the boy’s head full of curls, Ben finally fell off to sleep.

********************************

Ominous dark clouds hung over the town of Genoa the next morning, the day of Joseph Cartwright’s trial.  People piled into the town hall building, and those who couldn’t find a chair stood around the interior walls, hoping to hear all of the details of Doctor Steven Hale’s death.  Reporters from many of the most respected newspapers in the west made their way towards the front of the pseudo courthouse.  They stood there poised readying to take down every minute detail of what was being called the trial of the decade.

Sitting at the defense table were Benton Hill, attorney at law, and his client Joseph Cartwright.  Immediately behind them sat the rest of the Cartwright family including Hop Sing.  Doctor Martin sat behind his old friend Ben, and even Roy Coffee had returned from Virginia City in time to lend the Cartwright family some badly needed moral support.  On the next row behind Roy and Paul sat the primary character witnesses for Joe’s defense.  Harold Peele had sent a doctor who could testify as to the effects of torture in a war like setting.  They hoped that once the expert would testify that the jury would understand some of the pressure that Joe had been under for months.  Not that it meant that Joe hadn’t broken the man’s leg, but rather, that he was mentally unaware of what he was doing, simply because he had spent weeks being tortured.  Their main statement would be that it had damaged his mind.  Samuel Hazelton and Jake Wilson sat behind the expert witness and were prepared to testify as to how they had found Joe Cartwright in the town of Sand Dust.  They had come of their own accord, as they both thought that what Doctor Hale had done to the young man had been wrong.  Each man could still see the vivid picture in his mind of Joe lying on the floor of Doctor Hale’s office, who at the time was known as Doctor Hosea Simpson.  They would never forget the terror on the young man’s face and the enormous cast which had held his left leg.  There were also other friends of the Cartwright family sitting in other seats or standing up against the walls of the town hall offering their own moral support to them.  Unfortunately there were no friends or family on the jury.

With the defense attorney’s plea for Joe as not guilty to premeditated murder, the trial began.  Judge Hiram Stevens resided over the proceedings and warned the courtroom of his plan to have anyone who didn’t stick to protocol thrown out.  He also told the spectators in the room that no outbursts of any kind would be allowed.  Benton Hill gave a brief summary of his case, and how it was his opinion that the prosecutor was being a bit too zealous in his prosecuting of Joe Cartwright for political gains.  He agreed that there was reason for his client to serve some time, either in a hospital or a prison, due to his aggravated assault on Doctor Hale, but vehemently opposed the charge of murder.  Benton told the jury, in his usual calm and matter of fact manner, that he would prove that Joe had experienced cruel and unusual punishment already, and all at the hands of the man that he had “allegedly” killed.  The jury seemed to be diligent, taking notes and nodding to certain points that Benton had brought up.  Next up was Gaines Phelps, and his flamboyant way of telling the whole event through the eyes of the deceased.  He did not paint the late doctor as a humanitarian, but, he did make a point of telling the jury that no man has the right to take another man’s life, regardless of prior injury.  Attorney Phelps seemed to be winning the twelve men over in just the first few minutes of his opening statement.  The jurymen looked at each other and the expression on each of their faces grew more severe with each word that the grand-standing Phelps said.

Benton took his time, and made sure that each of his witnesses for the defense spoke calmly and clearly, so the jury would understand their testimonies.  The majority of his case was built on Joe’s mental fatigue, which had been caused by weeks of being tortured.  People, including Doctor Martin and Sheriff Coffee, spoke about the Joe Cartwright that they had come to know over the years.  They smiled fondly at the defendant and explained that the behavior he exhibited on the night of Hale’s murder was not the norm.  Each time Benton thought he had the jury swaying his way, the prosecutor would jump in with rebuttal after rebuttal and the men who sat in judgement over Joe would seem to become rigid, and any compassion that they had ebbed away.  Gaines Phelps made it a point to keep reminding the jurors that if a death happened during the commission of a crime, that it was premeditated in the eyes of the law.  He also argued and provided witnesses of his own who had heard Joe mention over the months while recuperating that he wished he could kill Steven Hale himself.  Benton tried his best to provide damage control after such witnesses, by providing expert testimony concerning prisoners of war cases, where long term effects of torture had been studied.  He pointed out numerous times, in fact so many that his case was beginning to sound redundant, that Joe’s mental state had caused him to go after the evil doctor who had butchered his leg.

The brief recess for lunch did nothing to provide further direction for Benton Hill.  He found it hard to continue on with the case after the hour had passed, and they were once again listening to the tough skinned Sheriff Rogers describing how he had found Joe standing over the body of Steven Hale with a wooden mallet in his hand.  Just their sheriff’s testimony was enough for the jurors.  No matter what the young man had endured months earlier, everyone could read it in the twelve sets of eyes that they thought of Joe Cartwright as a murderer.  Though Benton had done his very best, hour upon hour, and testimony after testimony, he was wearing as thin as his case by the time final arguments were presented.  Judge Stevens instructed the jurors as to what they were to consider in their judgement over the trial that had concluded around five o’clock in the evening.  One by one they filtered out of the town hall and were sequestered in a private room to discuss the case and come up with their verdict.

There had only been enough time for Joe to be escorted back to his jail cell and sit down on his cot for a few minutes before the sheriff reappeared in the room.  The four Cartwrights, Hop Sing and Benton all turned around on his approach.  He simply nodded towards Benton.  The attorney knew what it meant.  The jury had been out less than half of an hour and had already returned to the town hall.  A look of fear and dread passed between everyone as the sheriff unlocked Joe’s cell and handcuffed him once again.  The walk to the make-shift courthouse was a solemn one, no-one spoke.  Joe could feel his father’s hand on his shoulder as Pa resumed his position behind the defense table.  It was a mere gesture, but the young man was thankful for the brief touch.  He knew that everyone was of the same impression, though nothing had been said aloud.  The jury hadn’t taken much time to deliberate, and that meant that they had their minds made up right from the beginning of the trial.

Judge Hiram Stevens addressed the jury foreman and asked for the verdict to be handed to the bailiff.  He studied the piece of paper and asked the foreman once more if the decision had been a unanimous one.  The foreman nodded and informed the judge that all twelve jurors had come to the same conclusion.  Finally, after a few heart wrenching moments of total silence, the judge asked the defendant to stand.  Nervously the young man came to his feet and cast a quick look over his shoulder towards his family.  He could read the abundant fear on each of their faces.  Benton stood with his client as the judge spoke.

“Joseph Cartwright, you have been found guilty of aggravated and premeditated murder by a jury of your peers.  It is the decision of this court that you pay for your crime with the sentence of death by hanging.  Tomorrow you will be taken to the town square and hung by the neck until you are dead.  And may God have mercy on your soul.  Sheriff Rogers, please escort the prisoner back to your jail,” Judge Stevens stated with severity in his tone of voice.

The courtroom erupted in shock and horror over the verdict.  Joe turned to reach for his father, wanting the comfort he so drastically needed at the moment.  Ben and the rest of the family moved in closer to the young man but were stopped by the guards and the sheriff.

“Joseph!” Ben shouted, as he watched his youngest being dragged away.

Joe turned towards the voice and then watched in muted horror as his father fell down to the floor clutching his chest.  He tried his best to fight the guards and to get over to where Pa lay on the floor, surrounded by the rest of the family.  Sheriff Rogers shoved Joe towards the door as the judge had commanded.  Joe’s final view of his father was seen as he was being dragged out of the room.  Doctor Martin was knelt down next to Pa, and Hoss and Adam were standing there shouting for help.  Worse than any death sentence was Joe’s worry over what had happened to his Pa.  He begged the sheriff to let him return to his father, as he was forced outside and over to the jailhouse.  Sheriff Rogers did as he had been instructed by the court and hurriedly locked his prisoner back inside of the jail cell.  Joe’s screams for his Pa echoed throughout the jailhouse.

*********************************

Darkness fell over the town of Genoa and Joe sat alone and afraid awaiting the dawn.  Anyone who didn’t know the young man would think he’d be dwelling on the fact that he was to be hung in the morning.  That was not the case, for all Joe could think about was how his father was doing and what had happened to him.  He thought that someone would have come to see him, if not his brothers, then at least Hop Sing or Paul Martin.  But, the hours which had passed since he had been sentenced to death had been spent entirely in solitude.  Though he screamed to the rafters for the sheriff to tell him what was going on, the lawman refused to comment.  Even when he had brought Joe’s last supper in, Sheriff Rogers refused to answer any of his prisoner’s questions.

His dinner plate, having been tossed against the wall of his cell in anger, Joe paced back and forth and prayed for someone to release him from the terror he felt in his soul.  He could handle anything, even the upcoming noose, if only Pa was okay.  Joe’s heart told him what he needed to know, but he refused to listen to it.  If he were to do so, he would realize that nothing, barring death, could keep Ben Cartwright from being with his youngest son that night.  There was also no way possible that the whole family would’ve turned their backs on him, not when he would be dead shortly.  Joe prayed over and over again for his father to be alright, asking God to take him first and leave Pa with a life without the problems that he had brought on the family due to killing Hale.  He begged God’s forgiveness for having taken another man’s life, and for causing so much stress on his family and friends.  Reduced to tears, Joe collapsed onto the cot face down.  Rocking his head back and forth on his folded arms, he tried to remember a time when Pa had been there for him.  Even the numerous memories of his father coming to his aid did little to allay his fear that he was never going to see the man again.  Joe’s sobs filled the air, and he had worn himself out by the time that visitors finally appeared.

Hoss and Adam had been ushered into their brother’s jail cell and stood there staring down at the kid.  Joe didn’t even hear their approach, and it was only the clank of the cell bars closing and locking which made him look over at the two men.

“Hoss?  Adam?” Joe began, and sprang to his feet.  “How’s Pa?  What happened to him?  Where is he?”  Joe fired his questions off rapidly.

Both brothers looked away from Joe and didn’t reply.  They remembered Pa’s dying words, “don’t tell Joseph – I’ll see him soon enough.  I love all of you – stay together – no matter what.”

Joe moved closer to Hoss and forced his gaze.  The big man’s tear streaked face told him more than words could have.  He then stared at Adam, who had purposely pulled the brim of his hat down closer to his face, to hide his own emotions.

“No – no – please – he’s not dead – tell me – tell me that he’s not dead!” Joe pleaded.

“We’ve come to spend some time with you, Joe,” Hoss whispered and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.  As mad as he was at his little brother, there was no way he could fully turn his back on the kid, not now.  Pa had told them to stay together, and if that was his last request, Hoss was determined to fulfill it.

“You can’t even look at me, Adam – can you?” Joe asked, watching as his eldest brother moved across the cell.  “I’ve killed Pa – I don’t blame you – either of you – for hating me.  But, no matter how much you loathe me – it can’t come close to how much I hate myself right now,” Joe whispered and broke away from Hoss’ grasp.

“We can’t let it end like this – not like this –we’re brothers – we’re sticking together till the end!” Hoss protested and walked over to Adam.  He knew what Adam had said, once Pa had taken his last breath.  Hoss had never witnessed such anger on his brother’s face before.  Adam looked like he wanted to kill Joe with his bare hands for having caused their father’s lethal heart attack.  It was only the desire to do things according to Pa’s wishes which had sent Adam along with Hoss over to the jail.  The fact of the matter was that Adam held a great deal of hatred towards his little brother, and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to forgive him.  Even with the pending lynching just a few hours away, he still couldn’t show the kid any amount of emotional support.

“This is the end, Hoss,” Joe muttered, and sat down on the cot.  “I imagine that it was Pa who brought you both here tonight.  Somehow he must’ve tried to talk you guys into coming to see me before the hanging,” Joe paused for a few minutes and then the tears streamed down his face.  “That was Pa – always worried about all of his sons.  Oh God!  I killed my Pa!” Joe shrieked, as the shock had worn off and reality came flooding into his mind and soul.

“YOUR PA!” Adam screamed and bolted over to the kid on the cot.  He yanked Joe up by the elbow and shook him fiercely.  “He was never just YOUR PA!  He was OUR PA too, but you never “got” that did you, Joe?  No – always the baby – always the one in trouble – always the one causing him to worry!  Well you killed him all right – but get it straight will you?  He wasn’t just YOUR PA!”

“That’s enough!” Hoss interjected and pulled his two brothers apart, for what would be his last intervention.  “You think Pa would want us to say these vile things to each other? Do you think he can’t see us now?  I for one – I think he sees us this very minute!  I bet you he’s up in heaven — looking down and saying – what in the name of God is wrong with those boys!”

Adam stepped back away from both brothers and turned to face the cell bars.  His tears tracked down his cheeks and were well on the way of soaking his shirt collar.  He had spent so many tears the last few hours that it didn’t really matter anymore who he was crying for.  Adam cried for his own personal loss, and also for not being able to carry out his father’s last request.  But, Pa had to know how difficult it would’ve been on the two oldest sons to render compassion on the brother who had caused the entire awful event to begin with.

“You’re right, Adam,” Joe began, and swiped away his tears on his shirtsleeve.  “He was your Pa before he was mine.  And – you were right about me causing him grief – more than both of you put together – over the years.  But the fact that I caused his death – it’s something that I’ll take with me to the gallows.  So – if you think that you can hurt me anymore than I hurt right now – you’re wrong.”

Hoss wrapped his arms around his little brother and hugged him closely, just as Pa would’ve done if he had been alive at the time.  He held him for a few minutes before saying, “I love you, Little Brother.  I always will no matter what.”

“I love you too, Hoss.  I know there’s no way you can really forgive me – I’m not asking that of you –or even you, Adam.  I just want to die alone.  So – it’s my final request –and I hope you’ll honor it – to say our goodbyes now.  Don’t see me off to the hanging tomorrow morning, unless you want to see the show, Adam.”

Adam turned back towards his youngest brother and felt as though the kid had just sent a dagger through his heart.  He couldn’t believe that Joe thought that his brother might derive satisfaction over his death the next morning shook him to the marrow.  Joe had to be insane, as everyone had surmised.  “I don’t want to watch you hang,” Adam stated angrily.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Joe responded sincerely.  “But –since you don’t want to –let’s just say goodbye now.  I really haven’t got anything more to say to anyone on this earth.  I killed Hale – then I killed the one person that I loved more than anyone in my whole life.  This world holds nothing for me.  Don’t weep for me – I go to the gallows eagerly.”

“I’ll pray for you.  Goodbye, Kid,” Adam whispered, and could do nothing more than to give the young man a quick and very uncomfortable hug before turning towards the cell door.

“Goodbye, Little Brother – I – I know I’ll see you again – sometime,” Hoss hugged Joe closer to him and then walked briskly across the floor to join Adam.

Joe shouted for the sheriff and he showed up within a few minutes to escort the two Cartwright brothers out of the prisoner’s cell.  There was a brief moment before the three brothers went back to being two, when they shared a joint glance around the room at each other.  No further words were said, or were needed.  Joe sank back down onto the cot and rested his head in his hands.  He had remarkably stopped crying and wasn’t aware of it until he wiped at his eyes.  It was as if all of his tears had evaporated.  They were no longer needed.  Joe no longer had the tightness in the pit of his stomach which he had felt for weeks.  Instead of the dread and fear, he had begun to look towards the next morning with anticipation and gladness.  The thought of staying another day in a world without his father was unbearable, and Joe now looked forward to the hangman’s noose.

********************************

The hanging was scheduled for dawn, and even before the sun started to rise from behind the mountain range to the east, the town square was filled to capacity with spectators.  The front page of many newspapers read, “Wealthy rancher Ben Cartwright dead of a heart attack, day before youngest son is hung in Genoa.”  The trial though it had been short and the verdict a startlingly quick one, had made headlines and had drawn a huge crowd.  Even people who didn’t know the Cartwright family or Doctor Steven Hale showed up to witness the upcoming hanging.

Joe had refused his morning meal or any special requests prior to being led from the jail to the town square.  He was visited by Hop Sing, Doctor Martin, Roy Coffee and a few other family friends before the hangman entered the backroom to make preparations.  Joe refused to talk at length to any of his visitors, simply telling them all that he was fine with what was about to happen.  He looked and acted much more like a person who was being released from prison than someone who was about to have their neck stretched by a rope.  But, those who really knew the young man understood why he acted so strangely.  To know Joseph Cartwright was to know that he wouldn’t want to live without the presence of his father there at his side.  And, for all of those who knew that Joe considered himself responsible for his Pa’s death, there was an inner sadness which would stay with them for the rest of their lives.

The hangman shaved Joe’s neck, as was common practice.  The whole time Joe simply did as he was instructed and offered no conversation.  He didn’t want to stop the man from doing his duty, or prolong the coming attractions.  Joe couldn’t help thinking how many times Pa had nagged him about getting a haircut over the years, as the hangman sheared off two inches of hair that draped down the nape of his neck.  Pa would be happy that he had gone to his death looking presentable, Joe smiled to himself.

Howard Wyatt was the local hangman, and he had taken his job seriously over the twenty plus years that he was in the business.  But, even after more than a hundred hangings under his belt, Wyatt had never in his life seen a man who was so set on going to the gallows as urgently as Joseph Cartwright.  Joe was all but beaming when Mister Wyatt finished the business of shaving his neck.  Usually the final preparations were met by the criminal with loud protests and the hangman had even known a few criminals who had to be sedated before having their necks shorn.  He couldn’t help wondering why the boy acted so light hearted.  Wyatt had arrived the day of the trial, but hadn’t attended the proceedings.  He rarely got involved with actual criminal cases and he liked it better that way.  The last thing that Howard Wyatt needed was to grow fond of someone who he would later be slipping a noose around.  Still, Joe Cartwright seemed to be a strange criminal, one who was eager to get outside and get started.  Mister Wyatt thought back to a few cases where the criminal would act all calm until right before he was being led up the steps to the gallows and then they went totally crazy.  They would fight and kick and act up once dull reality set in and they were standing face to face with the rope.  He wondered if Joe Cartwright would be added to that select few who waited until the last minute to panic.

Joe was well pleased when the sheriff opened the front door to the jailhouse and had him step out onto the porch.  Two deputies joined the ranks and the sheriff began leading Joe towards the town square.  Joe continued to stare towards the gallows in the foreground and his pace seemed to quicken.  The early morning was filled with the sounds of women weeping and men yelling along with drunken cowboys laughing, but Joe didn’t hear any of it.  His focus remained ahead and his fast footsteps seemed to exceed those of the men who were accompanying him.  Joe could hardly wait to ascend the stairs and get it all over with.

Standing at the end of the stairs were Doctor Paul Martin and Sheriff Roy Coffee.  They each gave Joe a brief pat on the shoulder and whispered a prayer in his ear before Sheriff Rogers pointed with his rifle towards the top of the scaffolding.  Joe began to make his way up the stairs briskly and he beat the hangman to the top.  Mister Wyatt couldn’t believe that the young man had hurried to get to the noose and there still didn’t appear to be any hesitation in his steps.  He chalked it up to the fact that either Joseph Cartwright was crazy or that he had such a guilty conscience that it was killing him already.

“Any final words?” the town’s chaplain asked Joe.

“I ask God to forgive me.  And I go gladly into the night,” Joe whispered and stepped closer to the rope.

“May God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, have mercy on your soul,” the chaplain stated and walked back down the stairs.

Mister Wyatt approached Joe and adjusted the noose around his neck.  “You aren’t going to feel much, Sonny,” He said, trying to be a bit compassionate.

“I hope I feel everything,” Joe muttered and then felt the hood going over his head.  Suddenly he was very aware of everything.  He could hear his breathing and feel the pulse in his neck beating at a rapid rate of speed.  But, in spite of everything else, Joe could still see the image of Pa lying on the courthouse floor in his mind and he hurt so much that he couldn’t stand it any longer.  ****Take me now – I can’t stand it anymore! **** Joe’s thoughts pulsated in his mind.

At that precise moment the trap door to the gallows flew open and Joe felt a tremendous weight on his neck.  Suddenly everything went momentarily black.  From out of that black void Joe could feel a cocoon-like covering folding over his body, and then the color of fresh bright blood painted the inner corners of his mind.  Within all of that, there was an excruciatingly loud sound, like the scream of a soul being horrendously tortured.  It seemed to be tugging on Joe, pulling him further and further down.  Next there was a slimy film which covered Joe’s hands and face and soon his entire body.  He struggled to get away from the awful smells, and terrible screams, and the bizarre colors that streamed throughout his mind.  Joe was sure that he felt a serpent’s tongue darting at his face.  His screams joined the screams of other tortured souls and they all formed a terrifying choir.  Sure that he had fallen directly into Hell, the tears streamed out of Joe’s eyes and he continued to try to fight his way out of the darkness.

*******************************

“Joe – Joe – come on you are okay – you are okay!  Just hold still!”

“No – don’t!  Leave me alone!  I don’t want to be here — I don’t want to be condemned to Hell!  Please God – please help me!” Joe screamed and fought as he thrashed about.

Fox, who had witnessed his friend thrashing about most of the night, as though he had been caught up in some bizarre dream, had tried to catch up with him when Joe had darted out into the forest past the campsite.  Joe ran deeper and deeper into the woods before he had fallen over a tree branch and sunk down into a muddy bog.  He was covered in mud and was wrestling with a snake by the time that Fox had finally caught up with him.  The Indian in Fox knew that it had all been caused by the potent medicine that he had given to his friend.  He hadn’t known at the time that it would cause such ill effects.  All night long Joe had acted out some terrible dream and wrestled with unseen enemies.  Fox hoped that the young man would find some kind of peace but instead it looked as though he had caused his friend nothing but more pain and terror.  Wrenching the snake’s body out of Joe’s hands, Fox tossed it into the woods and tried again to shake his friend out of his dream.

“Joe —it’s Fox – it’s me!  Come out of it – you’re alright!”

“Please — I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to kill Hale – I didn’t mean to kill my father!  Please forgive me!” Joe wailed.

It took quite a few slaps to his friend’s face before Fox got some form of recognition from Joe.

“Fox – Fox what happened?  How did you get here?  Where am I?” Joe stammered, still confused and terrified.

“It’s okay, Joe –everything’s going to be okay.  You ran off.  I watched you all night – but you suddenly leapt up and took off before I could stop you.  We’re just outside of the campsite – it’s right over that way!” Fox explained, and pointed to the dim light of the campfire.

“Then – I’m not – I’m not dead?” Joe whispered, with disbelief coating his words.

Fox laughed in spite of the awful situation.  He reached a hand down towards his friend and carefully helped him to standing.  “You’re muddy – and a bit on the rank side – but no Joe – you’re not dead – that’s for sure!”

“What happened to me?” Joe asked still confused.

“Let’s go back to the campfire to dry your clothes and I will explain everything.  Then you can tell me if you got those answers that you were looking for before you fell to sleep last night.”

Slowly the two young men walked back to the campground and Fox began to tell Joe everything he had heard coming from his mouth that night.

At his friend’s urging, Joe took a few minutes to scrub the caked mud from his body and hands.  He then pulled out a change of clothes from his saddlebags and made his way over to the re-stoked campfire.  After changing his clothes, Joe settled down next to his friend and Fox handed him a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Guess I look a little better at least,” Joe commented as he buttoned his shirt.

“Yeah – well you could still use a good bath,” Fox grinned, and settled back against his saddle to listen to the upcoming story.  “So let’s hear it.  You were having one heck of a dream, Joe –and when you were out there wrestling in the mud with that snake I was worried that you had gone over the deep end mentally.”

“Yeah – guess you could say that,” Joe quipped, and then closed his eyes, saying yet another silent thank you to God that it had only been a dream.  “It was so real, you know?  I mean the whole experience – was more than a dream.  I remember it all — the ride into Genoa, walking into Hale’s office —tying him up.  The whole bit.  Then – just as I busted his leg – the sheriff walked in – and said that I had killed the guy!  I remember every single detail – it’s all up here,” Joe pointed to his head.

“Tell me the rest of it – I gathered some of this stuff while I was listening to you calling out in your sleep, but there’s a lot I want to know.  You said you ended up killing Hale?”

“Yeah – he had a heart attack –after I broke his leg.  The sheriff arrested me – took me off to jail saying I had committed premeditated murder.  Then he wired Pa – man – that was awful!  To have to look into Pa’s eyes and see the disappointment – I don’t think I’ll ever forget that!”

“I heard you calling out some things – like you were talking to your brothers.  What was that all about?”

“Oh – that was awful too – I guess I can’t say “awful” enough – I mean Adam and Hoss came to see me and I had to say goodbye to them – the night before the trial.  Then – the whole trial –everything that everyone said about me – they talked about me like I was totally insane!  I even think that my family was in agreement on that point.  Then there was this prosecutor – his name was Gaines Phelps – what’s weird is I’ve never even heard that name before!  Anyhow, he wanted me to hang and nothing that my lawyer could do or say was getting through to the jury,” Joe paused for a minute and stood and paced out the rest of his story.  “I was convicted – convicted and sentenced to hang.  As the sheriff was dragging me away – Pa collapsed onto the floor.  Oh God!  That was the most horrendous part of this whole nightmare, Fox!  To know that I had killed my father – I couldn’t take it.  And to know that Adam and Hoss would blame me always for his death was something that I had to deal with the night before they hanged me.”

“Relax, Wild Boy,” Fox smiled and stood next to his friend.  “You aren’t dead – you were never hanged.”

“That’s just it!” Joe exclaimed.  “I can still feel the rope around my neck – still see the whole town from my position up on the gallows.  It DOES feel like it happened, Fox!” Joe rubbed at his neck and his words were starting to flow out faster.  “I remember the hangman – the rope getting tighter and tighter – then all I could think of was how much I wanted it all to be over with.  I couldn’t get the picture of Pa lying on the floor of the courthouse out of my head.  I wanted to die!  Then I felt the gallows trap door come out from underneath my boots and felt the tug on the rope.  Everything went black for a while and then I heard the most terrifying sounds I had ever heard before!  My body was covered in some kind of slime and I could feel the serpent drawing closer to my face.”

“Well that was you falling into that big mud hole, Joe!  The screaming was probably me yelling for you to stop.  And, as for the serpent – well you were strangling a snake when I got to you.  I tossed it into the woods when I pulled it from your hands.  That would all explain what you imagined and felt.”

“What about the neck part?” Joe asked, raising his eyebrows.  He was still having trouble handling the whole event, and not at all sure that he hadn’t actually gone through everything somehow.

“Can’t explain that one, Joe,” Fox paused and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “I wasn’t the one looking for the answers anyhow.  It was you who wanted some answers you know?”

“Yeah,” Joe smiled, somewhat embarrassed.  He would refrain from asking for answers in the future to questions that were not up to mortals to know.  “Well I have my answers now – to say the least!”

“Then – I take it that you won’t be going to Genoa at daybreak like you said last night?”

“I’m not sure that I’ll EVER go to Genoa again in life!” Joe laughed.

“Good – then – perhaps it was worth all that you went through, huh?”

“Yeah – because it really could have happened like I dreamed, Fox.  I was so ready to go after Hale last night –and I have you to thank for bringing me to my senses.”

Fox patted his friend on the back and then sat down in front of the campfire.  “That’s what blood brothers are for.  Someday I might need a good talking to – and I’ll come looking for Wild Boy.”

Joe knelt next to his friend and laughed at the thought of him teaching Fox anything.  “I should be the last one you ask to help you – but I would do my best you know!”

“I know,” Fox grinned.  “And besides – you haven’t learned how to mix up any potions yet – so I should be okay.”

“That was some powerful stuff that you gave me!  I can tell you – I will never drink any more of that magical elixir that you make.”

“It served its purpose – in that I am well pleased.  I don’t have enough blood brothers to spare, you know?” Fox smiled as he sipped his coffee.

“You have one here – in me – for life,” Joe replied and in his burning eyes he showed his appreciation to his friend.

“Now – something tells me – since you have bowed out of that little trip to Genoa – that you will be heading back to the Ponderosa today.  Am I right?”

“Yeah,” Joe nodded.  “I just have to see that –,”

Fox cut his friend off in mid-sentence and said, “You have to make sure that your Pa is really alive.  I know.”

“Who made you so danged smart anyhow?” Joe laughed.

“The Great Spirit – the same Great Spirit who watches over all of us – he made me so wise.  If you would listen to him a little more – you might not have to go around asking so many questions.”

“Point taken,” Joe agreed.  “I hate to cut our trip short — but I am ready to go home.  What do you say that we pack up our gear and head out?”

“I’d say yes,” Fox grinned.  He was so relieved to see that Joe had returned to his senses and Fox knew that Ben Cartwright would feel likewise.  The two friends packed up their gear and dowsed the campfire and readied their mounts for the journey back to the Ponderosa.

*******************************

Fox reined his horse to an abrupt halt just a few miles from the Ponderosa ranch house.  He turned towards his friend and said, “This is where our path together ends.  You go ahead and check on Chief Silver Hair and I’m going to visit my mother’s people for a while.”

“I hate to say goodbye — you’ve helped me so much,” Joe responded, filled with gratitude for all that the other man had done for him.

“We don’t say goodbye, Wild Boy – we just say see you later.  I’ll be around.  When those rowdy brothers of yours return from the cattle drive I expect to come back and have one hell of a night with all of you in Virginia City!”

“Okay — but the drinks are on me!” Joe insisted.

“Yes – I figured that you wouldn’t trust me to serve you anything else to drink for quite some time anyhow.  I’ll see you then.  You tell your Pa I said hi.  See you later, Joe!” Fox sang out and shot his right hand up in the air in a sign of peace.

Joe did likewise and watched as his friend rode away towards the high country.  “Let’s get home, Cochise!” Joe called to his pinto and gave the horse a slight kick to her sides to pick up the pace.  There was only one thing on the young man’s mind.  He wanted to see his father.

********************************

Not taking the time to stable his horse, Joe leapt from his saddle at the front hitching post.  The house never looked as inviting as it did at that moment.   He didn’t even notice the fact that his left leg was hurting as he hurried towards the house.  Joe pulled the large planked door open and noticed that his father’s hat and holster were there on the credenza.  He smiled, as it was a sign that the patriarch was at home.  Still, lingering doubt was embedded inside Joe’s mind he had to see Pa to make sure that he was truly alright.

“Pa!  Pa – where are you?” Joe sang out and checked the kitchen first.  Not finding him there, the young man walked into his father’s study.  There was still no sign of Pa.  Joe headed to the staircase, still shouting out for his father.

Before Joe could make it to the first landing, Ben appeared at the top of the stairs.  He had been up in his bedroom taking a well-deserved nap when he had first heard the shouts.  Shocked to see his youngest son back from his trip a few days early, Ben started down the staircase.

“Joseph?  What are you doing back so soon?  Is anything wrong?” Ben asked as he finally reached his son.

Joe wrapped his arms around his father and pulled him into an impromptu hug, one that was very intense.  “No, Pa, nothing’s wrong — not anymore,” Joe whispered.

Ben pulled his son back some, just far enough so he could read the look on the boy’s face.  He wondered just what could have happened to make Joe come home the way that he had.  Ben also wondered why Joe still clung so tightly to him, as though they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Then what is it, Joseph?” Ben questioned staring into the loving eyes of his son.

“I’m just glad to see you – that’s all, Pa,” Joe replied, trying to control the heavy emotion in his voice, but losing the battle.  Tears formed in his eyes as he continued, “I’ve missed you – anything wrong with that?”

Ben chuckled and answered, “No – no, Son, there’s nothing wrong with that.  I missed you too.  Come on — let’s go sit down and you can tell me all about your trip.”  Pa draped his arm across his son’s shoulder as they walked across the room.

The two Cartwrights sat in the living room, where Joe went to great lengths to tell his father about the whole incident from the night before.  Ben listened intently and with great awe.  Joe made it a point to tell his father every minute detail even the smallest thing that he remembered from the powerful dream.  Pa never interrupted, not once.  He could sense that Joe needed to get it all out of his system and from out of his heart as well.  Finally, after Joe had explained about Fox pulling him out of the muddy pit, the boy settled back and caught his breath.

“That was some dream you had there, Joseph!” Ben finally felt like it was the right time to comment.

“It was so real, Pa – and when I realized that it was just a dream – the first thing I wanted to do was to come home – and see you.”

“Oh – then that explains that enthusiastic welcome that you gave me,” Ben smiled knowingly.  “I don’t know what Fox cooked up for you — but I sure am thankful that you only had to experience that situation in a dream.  It would have been devastating if you really had gone through with your plan to settle the score with Hale.”

“Yeah, Pa – I know that now.  I also know that it’s never been up to me to settle the score.  It’s up to God to handle it, no matter what Hale did to me.  It’s not right for me to do to him what he did to me – just in order to seek my own form of revenge.  When I left here — well – I didn’t think like that,” Joe confessed solemnly.

Ben patted his son’s shoulder and then gave a sigh filled with relief.  “I understand, Joe.  Sometimes we have to learn these things the hard way.  Fortunately – you only had to go through one bad night – compared to a life time of grief and regret.”

“If you had died —,” Joe stopped in mid-sentence.  He was trying to hold back the tears, there was no need for them but they came anyway.  Instead of tears of pain and sorrow, they were tears of happiness.  Pa was right there next to him and he was alive and well.  Joe remembered trying to etch his father’s face into his memory while he was in the jail cell thinking that he would soon be hung.  Now, he would have years to be with his Pa and he couldn’t have felt more grateful than he did at that moment.

“I’m feeling very well, thank you,” Ben laughed.  “You don’t have to worry about your old man.”

“Well – you weren’t doing so well there in my dream or whatever it was!  I’m just so thankful – just so thankful that you’re here, Pa – and —,” Joe paused as he remembered something else from his experience the night before.  “There’s something I need to show you – be right back!”  He hurried towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Ben sang out surprised by Joe’s sudden dash across the room.

“Be right back, Pa.  I’ve got something I’ve got to give you – something I’ve wanted to give you for a long time.  Gonna go get it – it’s up in my room,” Joe called and ascended the stairs.
Ben watched in wonderment as Joe bounded up the flight of stairs.  There was no hint of a limp or any sign of pain in his son’s movements.  He hoped that meant that Joe’s leg was doing a whole lot better than it had been prior to his trip.  Within a few minutes, Joe was back in the living room and he handed his father a book.

“What’s this?” Ben asked, taking it from his son.

“Oh – it’s a journal – something that I started writing a few years ago,” Joe grinned.

“Why are you giving it to me? What’s in it?” Ben asked, being both confused and curious.

“Why wait until tomorrow for what you can do today.  Isn’t that something that you’ve always said?” Joe answered and sat down next to his father.  “It’s just something I wrote for you — telling you how much the things that you’ve done for me over the years have meant to me.  You know – stuff like that.”

Ben nodded as he was beginning to understand why it had become so important for his son to show the book to him at that time.  Joe had gone through a dreadful experience the night before, especially in thinking that he had somehow killed his father.  Ben knew that now Joe wasn’t taking anything for granted.

“Well – let me take a look at what you’ve done here,” Ben smiled and opened the cover.

“Oh – well – I’ll just go into the kitchen and clean up a bit.  You might want to be alone for some of the things I wrote in there, Pa.  I think I confessed to a few things that you never knew that I had done.  Things are going too good for me right now— and maybe I don’t want to be around when you learn about some of my past transgressions,” Joe winked and stood to leave.

Ben nodded towards his son and said, “Joseph, you have just peaked my curiosity!”

“I’ll bring in some coffee for us after I get washed up, Pa.”

“Sounds good,” Ben replied and flipped to the first page to get to the beginning of the journal.  Joe began to walk across the living room when his father called over to him.  “Joseph?”

“Yes, Sir?” Joe asked turning around.

“I’m glad that you’re home,” Pa announced and the love and affection that he felt for his youngest showed in his gaze.

“I’m glad YOU are too!” Joe laughed, and nodded back to his father that he understood his meaning.   He could tell that Pa was happy that he had come home in much better spirits than he had exhibited prior to his trip.   “I’m going to get cleaned up, Pa.  Be back in a minute!”

Ben leaned back in his red leather chair and began reading some of the experiences that he and his son had gone through over the years.  He was glad that Joe chose to share the journal with him, and hoped that he would gain even more insight into the young man who was so hard to understand at times.  Though he was mercurial, Ben loved Joe with all of his heart.  It was nice for a father to see in words that his son felt the same way about him.

********************************

Epilogue:

Joe took advantage of his new outlook on life.  There were still times when his left leg bothered him, but not to the extent in which it had hurt prior to his terrifying dream.  As the months passed by the limp became less and less noticeable, and just as the doctors had predicted, the nerve that had caused the problem soon settled down.  By the following fall, Joe was for all intents and purposes, back to his normal routine.  He even had the chance to gentle a few of the new horses before winter fell upon the ranch.  Everyone around Joe noticed the change in him.  It wasn’t just the fact that his infirmity had disappeared, but also that he was much easier to get along with, due to his new found peace of mind.  He was no longer haunted by events of the past, especially those dealing with Doctor Steven Hale.  And, even though the family knew that the evil doctor had taken up practice in Genoa, they refused to settle the score with him.  It was just as Joe had told his father that the price of vengeance was far too costly.  It had become the mutual decision of the Cartwright family that they would leave it all to the hands of God.

The hand of God was swift for Steven Hale, and as Ben studied the telegram he had just been handed, his thoughts went to his youngest son.  Tucking the piece of paper into his vest pocket, Pa climbed up into the buckboard and headed out of Virginia City and over to the main breaking corral.  He knew that he would find Joe there mending the gate that day.

“Pa?” Joe turned when he saw his father tying the reins of the buckboard down to the footboard.  “What are you doing here?  Did you think I ditched my job and snuck into town?” Joe teased his father, knowing that it wouldn’t be the first time that he had shirked his duties.  Those times were now well documented in the journal that he had given Pa.  Besides, the young man was known for choosing his own work schedule at times.  Joe smiled as he walked closer to Pa.

“No – Joe – I knew you’d be here working diligently as always,” Ben grinned and patted his son’s shoulder.  “I came out here to show you something.  Here,” Ben said and handed his son the wire from Genoa.

Joe tucked his work gloves underneath his arm and read the telegram.  He read it several times in fact, before staring up into his father’s eyes.  “Hale’s dead?”

“Yes – a friend of mine – well – he’s been keeping an eye on the man.”

“Oh?” Joe sounded surprised, “I thought that we were leaving all of this to God?”

“Well – I just had him watching just in case Hale decided to cross the line again.  I was ready to get him on new charges if I could.  The little bargain I had with the doctor was about past infractions.  So–,”

Joe cut his father’s reply short, “So – you were hoping that we could kind of get even with him after all?”

“Getting even aren’t the words I was going for actually,” Ben grinned.  “I was thinking more along the lines of doing our civic duty.”

“Thanks, Pa,” Joe nodded.  He understood how his Pa felt.  Though they had let go of the past, it was still in the back of their minds every now and then.  Joe also knew that his father had detested making the deal with the man who had done so many terrible things over the years, especially to his youngest son.  “So – it says that he had a heart attack?”

“Yeah – died right there in his office, they found him stretched across his examination table.  Kind of odd, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t do it!” Joe exclaimed.

“I know that you didn’t – besides he died last night.  You do have a great alibi this time.  You were with your father,” Ben winked.

“Well – I’m glad he’s gone.  He can’t hurt anyone anymore.  I’m also glad that none of us were involved,” Joe paused and rubbed at his throat, remembering the feel of the noose.  “I don’t think I could go through that again!”

Ben chuckled and tucked the piece of paper back inside his vest.  “Let me help you with this gate.”

“Thanks, Pa,” Joe nodded gratefully, and Ben knew that his son was thanking him for much more than just the offer of help with the chore.  He handed one end of the wood plank to Pa and took the other end over to the gate.  “We can get this done together in no time, and then we can sneak off into Virginia City for a beer before the boss finds out!”

Ben laughed and shook his head very amused by his son’s antics.  Everything was as it should be.  Joe was going to be fine and life without Steven Hale would be much easier to accept.  Ben said a silent prayer of thanksgiving to the man upstairs for having watched over the family once again.  He would never forget the help that Joe had received from God and from his blood brother Fox.  While he held the board for his son, Ben felt more at peace than he had for a long while.  Best of all, he knew that Joe did too.  Pa knew that sometime in the future his youngest would be detailing all of the events of the past year in the journal that he had given him months earlier.  He couldn’t wait to read how Joe would describe the dream he had about being hanged and how it had changed his life.  Pa grinned to himself.   It would make for some very interesting reading.

The End

Written by Wrangler

5-22-2025

Stories in this series:

Best Medicine

Best Medicine #2 Malice Aforethought

Best Medicine #3 Coup De Grace

***Dedicated to Rosalyn – thank you for encouraging me to finish this story which wouldn’t have gotten done without you! ***

(And to my story consultant Rob, who figured the plot out way too fast!)